Darkness Falls
by Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
Summary: You crash and burn but still stand tall even though the darkness falls. Luka
1. Chp1:Partly Cloudy with Guaranteed Rain

_**Disclaimer**: Characters are owned by ER, Warner Brothers, NBC, and the creators of the show. Any unrecognizable characters are originally created by me, unless otherwise stated._

**September 2008**

It was dark outside, and not because the sun wasn't up. It was dark outside because the sky was gloomy and gray, and the sun couldn't find a place to peek through the crowds of clouds. Much like she'd had a hard time doing lately.

She couldn't pry herself from the warmth of her bed; even though it was still cold it was warmer beneath the sheets than outside of them. She felt a million miles away from him when he was just miles closer than across town. The warmth from his skin wasn't doing its job warming hers.

Instead it was working his tired body at County. She hadn't seen him much lately with him working nights and being on days herself. She hated how she had gotten dependent on the way that he kept her warm while she slept, but she loved the way that she felt when he did.

The closest thing that she'd had to warmth on the lonely nights was Cujo. Cujo could only do so much since he wasn't allowed to sleep any closer than the foot of the bed. Luka hated the blonde hair that he shed into the bed, and she'd admit that it wasn't ideal to wake up with a hairball of unrecognizable blonde hair by her face.

Cujo, Alex named him that when he had just seen that movie and the dog had rabies, was startled and lifted his head from the bed to look around the room. He showed his teeth, his growl remaining silent, at the open door, and Luka walked through. Cujo licked his lips and laid his head back onto the softness of the comforter.

"Hello, my wife," Luka said as he closed the bedroom door, his voice carrying in an unusual 'oo' voice. He stripped his coat and let it drop to the floor. His fingertips brushed across the top of Cujo's blonde head as he made his way to the bed.

"Hey," she replied tiredly, stretching her arms up into the air. With the lack of light shining into the room, she was slightly surprised when there was a glimmer from her engagement ring and matching wedding band echoing against the wall.

"I got Alex off to school. You don't go in until noon. I just worked my last night shift. And I had one of those triple cappuccino things," he said, pressing his knee against the edge of the bed just on the other side of Cujo. He crawled over her, slid his hand onto her cheek, and he softly pressed his lips to hers.

"Mm hmm. I can taste it," she laughed in the back of her throat as he pulled away. He shook his head, kissing her again. She kissed him back, running her hand to the back of his neck and entwining her fingers with the hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled back again, and his eyes sunk into hers.

"Go," he said, snapping his fingers at Cujo and pointing off of the bed. He was mesmerized it seemed, and she pinched his hair between her fingers. Cujo hopped onto the floor, the bed seeming to have a huge weight lifted from it.

He swiped his thumb across her cheekbone before leaning his lips into hers again. The sound of Cujo hitting the wood floor as he lay back down seemed to assure Luka to let his hand drag through her hair. The air was still cold to her, but him being near was slowly warming her, until he tried to lift the blankets from her.

"It's too cold," she said, shaking her head vigorously. He sighed, his shoulders dropping when his eyes rolled. His hands started to rub the slightly exposed skin of her upper arms.

"Sam, I really hate to point this out, but we cannot have sex if there's a layer of blankets between us," he said, slightly arching an eyebrow. He pressed his forehead against hers and kicked his shoes off to the floor. "Besides," he added, a grin spreading across his face, "it's my job to keep you warm."

"Right," she nodded sheepishly, lifting the blankets as he quickly climbed in beside her with an even quicker motivation. His hand brushed across her stomach as he was draping his arm across it. She shivered, which prompted him to cover her with his body as he started to kiss her again. "I'm glad that you're a warm body," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Me too. It keeps me off of the couch," he teased, sliding his hands beneath her back and holding her close enough to keep her warm. He laid his forehead on her chest, resting his body against her. He reveled in the moment that they just laid there holding each other. "Lets stay like this for the rest of the day."

"Mmm, don't tempt me. I can't afford to miss anymore work," she mumbled.

He shook his head, the tips of his bangs brushing across her shoulder. "They won't even notice you're gone. They got new nurses, students, and interns this morning. No one even asked me when you were coming in like they usually do."

"Ah, newbies. They'll need me even more than usual." They had been married for a little over a year, and he was beginning to figure out just how wise she'd become over her 29 years – even more so within the last 2 that they'd been together, all over again. She pursed her lips, her eyes drifting to his face as his breathing seemed to slow.

"Are you going to sleep?" She laughed lightly in the back of her throat, and she immediately felt him shake his head, his chin pressing gently into her shoulder. She was silent, and the room was flooded with cold air as his breathing echoed a musical rhythm in her ear.

"Not sleeping, I'm just resting my eyes," he tried to smile softly, but his action went unnoticed to her as she was openly amused by him.

She scooted out from beneath his shoulder lazily pressing against hers, surprised that she'd received no objections from him, and turned to look at him before she crawled out of the bed. Her eyes rested on his tired form, her hand reaching up and dragging through his hair. "It's good for you," he spoke into the pillow, her hand through his hair urging him to say something just reassure her, and partly himself too, that he was still awake.

"You're a horrible liar, I hope you know," she grinned, watching him peel an eye open to shoot her a glance, her fingers threading deep into his hair.

"You're a tease," he half smiled, his lethargy obvious as he tucked a hand beneath him, his chest being pushed up slightly from the bed. She shook her head, retrieving her hand from his hair and pulling it back to her body so she could crawl out of bed. Once she did escape the warmth of the sheets and blankets covering the remotely huge bed, she pulled wrapped herself in warm clothes to leave the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" His muffled voice echoed around the room as he heard the sound of the door opening, Cujo's heavy body lifting from the floor and quickly following Sam towards the door.

"Somebody has to let Cujo out. He's been in here with me all night," she shrugged, clutching the doorknob tightly in her hand and leaning against the door. Cujo, respectfully, stopped to look from Sam to Luka, knowing that there was interaction between them but not understanding what – he just heard his name.

"Oh," he pursed his lips together and turned slightly on his side to look at her, his eyes looking fully at her, "okay."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, waiting for Cujo to catch back up to her. Luka offered her a smile before burying his head back into his pillow, and she knew just how tired he really was. He could lie to her all he wanted, but she'd always know – she always did.

"Come on, Cujo," Sam dropped her arms and patted her leg, capturing the dog's attention to follow her out of the room.

The dog's tags clinked together as he hustled to follow her, the ring in Luka's ears thinning more and more. She left the room, the door being left open and the light from the hall seeping in, the sound of the dog padding down the hall becoming distant. He heard, more over, he knew that she was lingering just outside of the door. He cleared his throat as she quietly walked back in, heading to the closet slowly and silently.

"Just need to get my coat," she said it with a chuckle vibrating in the back of her throat, the information seeming to go unnoticed.

"It's in the hall, by the door," he curled up, pulling his leg up beneath him until his arm and his knee both propped him off of the bed. She smiled half-heartedly as she nodded her head, the mainly confused dog peeking back into the room. Cujo's appearance came as a surprise to them both.

She took the sign of the young dog as a calling, and stepped out behind the dog.

"We should get a house," his voice drew her back in as he rolled over onto his side, looking down the length of his body at her. He waited to see her reaction, and was left confused and speechless when he saw none – not a single emotion on her face.

"Luka," she was secretly amused by his lethargic form, closing her eyes momentarily as she scratched her temple, "baby, you're delusional."

"No, I'm not. I've been thinking about it for a while now," he reached up and rubbed his eyes, watching her lean against the lucid doorframe with her shoulder. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, slightly amused at his mumbled yet so clear words. "Cujo needs a backyard."

'_That's your only argument?_' she considered asking, but quickly disregarded the thought.

"Honey, we can't afford it. We're behind on bills, and we have to pay for Alex's school because Steve's behind on his payment. The good schools are expensive," she sighed, wishing that he'd choose a different moment to have this conversation other than one that he was mostly asleep. She slowly shook her head at him, his eyes narrowing at her as a slight smile crossed his face. "What?"

She wanted to smile, too, he could definitely tell, but he also knew that she wasn't smiling at the situation but at the smile that he'd managed.

"I've been saving some money," he shrugged once he forced the smile from his face, tucking his arm behind his head.

"You bought a boat, Luka," she reminded him rather deadpanned, his eyes rolling as he held back a sigh but the muffled air seemed to escape from him.

"House payments, Sam, I want house payments," he squinted as Cujo hurried back in, this time with a whine to draw their attention back to the reminder that she was going to let him out. Luka sighed, feeling like he was going unheard and ignored. "You said that you were going to let him outside and now the idea is in his head. I let him out when I got home."

"You could have told me that," she laughed lightly at the situation, finding it as the best way to let her anger be relieved of her. She didn't know if she was mad that he'd mentioned buying a house, or that she was mad that he hadn't given her some better arguments than he had.

"I didn't even think about it, baby," he was definitely tired, he only called her that when he was tired from picking up what the Americans say. She was surprised that it was like that, especially since his accent got heavier and he spoke in slurred Croatian. "I was tired, and I thought that you just wanted an excuse to leave."

"You thought wrong, Luka," she countered, her voice straining to keep stern.

He graced her with a firm glare, and he threw the sheets off of him to stand to the floor. He pulled his sweatshirt off over his head and dropped it to the floor beside him; her eyes diligently watched him make a mess on their relatively clean floor. He looked over at her and widened his eyes, almost defiantly as he unbuckled his black slacks and dropped his pants to the floor.

He gave her a firm scowl, her face seeming to erupt into a smile and sending him into a range of confusion. She pushed herself from the doorframe and advanced further towards him, her eyes noticing that he was standing in the cold room in only his boxers and a thin white t-shirt. She still had trouble believing that he was hers, and that he wanted all of these things with her.

"I just want to take care of you," she told him softly, slipping her cold hands up his shirt and touching the heated skin of his abdomen. He shivered under her cold touch, the chills rushing through him at the change of temperature against his skin. Her nails dragged across his skin, tickling the sensitive spots down his sides directly above the waistband of his boxers. "You need to let me take care of you."

"I want to take care of you and Alex. That's what I've wanted all along," he looked down at her, his fingers tightly gripped around the edge of the sheets. Her hands circled his hips as much as her tiny fingers would stretch, her fingers spreading out against his skin.

"I wouldn't have ever married you if I hadn't planned on doing the same for you, but it's going to be hard because we're so busy. We can't afford to spend money other places right now when we're good; we're good here," she slowly retracted her hands when he seemed disinterested in her touch, moving the sheets back as he sat on the side of the bed. She pursed her lips together, her eyes watching him as he leaned back on his arms.

"We're comfortable here, maybe too comfortable," he said slowly and gently, watching her body tense as she sighed and turned away from him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, keeping her from moving away from him in her slightly angered state. "Look at me."

"It's too early to do this now, Luka," she shook her head, struggling to pull her wrist away and out of his grasp.

"It's always too early, Sam," he sighed, slightly exasperated, and he dropped her wrist only to unintentionally find himself riding the edge of slight anger as well. He struggled with the words to say and bit his bottom lip tight, letting yet another conversation with his wife pass. He thought that he was doing what she wanted all along, but, anymore, everything seemed to lead to her being mad. "Did I do something?"

"What?"

She furrowed her eyebrows and fought the disbelieving laugh begging to escape from her, watching as he turned away hurt that she wouldn't just take a minute to talk about it. She quickly reached out and guided his eyes back to hers, her hand smoothing down his jaw line to fall into the crook of his neck.

"Luka," she entwined her fingers with the hair at the nape of his neck and, with her other hand, she spread her fingers out across his neck with her thumb pressing high into his cheekbone. She couldn't say anything, almost didn't want to, her hands cold against his heated flesh. She had lost all of her control, her knees beginning to press hard into his.

Only then did she realize that she hadn't seen him for nearly a whole week. It wasn't that they didn't see each other at all, but their schedules were conflicting and their time spent together was awkwardly limited. It was that fact that made her believe a bigger responsibility, like a house, would cause even more of a strain when they didn't see each other, and it just wasn't fair.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead, his eyes closing momentarily as her moist lips where present once again on his skin. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and he was drowning again in his sweetest sin.

"Come sit with me," she conceded softly as her long and skinny fingers trailed down his thick arm to grab his hand.

He smiled mischievously, shaking his head as he circled her tiny waist with his rather large hands and pulled her towards him. Her knees smoothed past his until she found herself perched between his legs, his thumbs looping into the waistband of her pants as his fingertips slipped up the back of the bulky sweatshirt and fanned out against her skin.

"Uh – uh, I have better things to do than sit around," he tugged her playfully, seeming to force her arms, although he knew better than that, to circle his neck as she clasped her hands together.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

He pulled her closer to him as he shifted and pushed her onto her back into the mattress. It was moments like this when he thanked his lucky stars for days like the day he was living, and he pressed his lips against hers only to find them just as moist as they had been against his forehead. It was a slice of God knows what.


	2. Chp2:So Predictable

He walked through the sliding doors printed with **'Authorization Only'** across it, quickly being followed behind by a frantic woman. Abby looked up from the admit desk at the sound of a wailing and frantic cry, her eyes settling on Luka before looking past him at the 'shadow'. He offered her a smile, but glanced behind him over his shoulder as he noticed Abby's displacement.

It took everything in him to reach out and stop the woman, tightly wrapping his hands around her upper arms when he saw hr beginning to collapse.

Her sobs deepened as did his confusion, her knees buckling beneath her. He wondered what the problem was – what had her in hysterics and what would convince her to confide in him. Abby quickly left her standing position at the desk, and took off in a hurried pace towards Luka and the young woman. Until she paused, on-looking the scene of Luka pulling the woman to his chest and stroking her hair gently, tenderly, and she felt the tears spring to her eyes.

"Ma'am," Luka muttered down at her, aptly pulling her from his chest, "what's the matter?"

He was off duty; he could pry into his natural human concern for human life.

"It's my fiancé, they told me he was here," she strained her voice to keep herself calm and collected, her hands grasping desperately onto Luka's t-shirt.

He narrowed his eyes in her direction, wondering if she'd normally grasp on to any random stranger or if there was something about him that just seemed like he was just compassionate to care.

"I'll tell you what, ma'am," he sighed, dropping his hands from her and placing a gentle touch on her elbow. He ran the other hand through his hair, glancing over his shoulder to see Abby. "I'm actually off tonight, but Dr. Lockhart here will help you find him." He motioned behind him at Abby.

"Thank you very much, Dr…"

"Luka…Call me Luka," he smiled warmly, almost enough to make her smile in her time of need, as Abby stepped forward and replaced his hand on her elbow with one of her own.

"What's his name?"

"Derek Ryan," she answered quickly, Abby's arched eyebrow and pursed lips making her inner conflict quite the opposite of discreet.

He followed them down the hall to a trauma room, the scene of Pratt, Barnett, Chuny, and Sam working on stabling the young man lying rather broken on the table. He felt a tug at his heart to help them, but he didn't know the situation and nor did he know the procedures already ran. It was too late to attempt to do anything.

He viewed in on the team at work for a second longer, lifting his left hand and absentmindedly twisting his wedding ring around his finger, knowing that they were fully capable of doing the job to the best of anyone's abilities. There was something that made him want to be in there even more with the hysterical young woman standing just feet away, but he knew that he couldn't do that. Just standing there was drawing him to a restless state.

He peered at his wife before walking back down the hall and the opposite way towards the lounge, his head beginning to spin with questions.

_What would he do if he were standing outside that door and the one he loved were on the table? What could he do?_ But one other question stood out, _what could be done if he were the one lying there?_

Luka trudged tiredly into the lounge, his long, black, velvet coat wrapped around him tightly just as well as his gloves covering his fingers precisely from the cool Chicago air, and dropped onto the couch with a huff. He pulled his gloves from his hands and set them in his lap, slowly reaching up and rubbing his neck. He rolled his neck on his shoulders, his fingers pressing harder into his skin as he did so, before he rested the back of his neck on the back of the sofa.

He sighed at how tired he felt even though it was only _7:08_, and he narrowed his eyes tightly at the tiling above him. He didn't know when he had the beginnings of starting to feel old, but he did know that he'd lately had the tension building up to the point that he was so overwhelmed. He was tired, and, he almost believed, sick.

He breathed in and out steadily as he tried to clear his head of the situation at hand, closing his eyes tightly to push his vision of the old ceiling out of his view. He couldn't help but think of it though; the woman looked so helpless and so desperate for someone to cling to her. He hated that he couldn't do anything about it, but he also realized that there was a good team in there that would do just as good whether he was in there or not; he'd also come to the realization that there was some cases that there just wasn't anything that could be done.

He heard the door open quietly and had a difficult time cracking open his eyes, but when he finally did he smoothed a hand over his face. He pulled his hands from his face and dropped them to his lap, looking around the room for the person who had opened the door. He breathed in deep at seeing a shadow, a breath of fresh air as he realized that he must have drifted off.

He checked his watch as the person turned from facing the counter, a coffee mug magically in their hand.

"You look tired," he recognized the voice, but he was looking through a blurred vision.

"Yeah, I am," he breathed in deep again, and he suddenly realized that he was talking to Abby, "how's the woman? How's the patient?"

"They got him stable, and are now explaining the situation to the woman. I think she'll be okay," she offered him a smile, although, she looked at him with saddened eyes. Her eyes lingered on his lethargic form as he blinked slowly, hardly noticing her eyes on him, and she sipped from her coffee in an attempt to forget. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick up Sam," he sighed tiredly, didn't even notice her barely noticeable wince as she seemed to be hit in the gut with a reminder.

She was reminded every day that this man was married and that she'd messed up her second chance – there was someone else who hadn't messed up their second chance – and she almost hated herself for that. She still cared deeply for him, maybe even still loved him, and the thing that always caused her pain was that she knew he still cared for her but he didn't love her anymore.

"I don't want her taking the El by herself with it getting late," he almost seemed ridiculous to himself by not letting his wife take the train by herself. He silently laughed at his own absurdity, but shrugged it off as he realized lots of people were like him. He hadn't seen her in nearly a week, but he knew that he owed her an apology from that morning. "It isn't safe."

She nodded along politely, inwardly thinking that she missed having someone to walk her home or join her on the train home because they didn't think it was "safe".

"You should let us walk with you," he suggested sheepishly.

"No, don't worry about it," she shook her head, brushing her brown hair back from her eyes and shortly dropping her fingers into the pocket of her white lab coat. He looked at her with narrowed eyes, slightly disappointed that she was so obviously set in not being around him, he was, after all, once a BIG part of her life. "I'll be fine."

He nodded dejectedly, his fingertips beginning to play with the material of his velvet coat as he stared intently at the action.

"I-"

Their voices awkwardly collided as they both spoke rather uncomfortably. He immediately motioned to her for her to speak first, and she set her coffee mug down on the counter as she briefly closed her eyes.

"I haven't seen you in a while," she ventured out there, tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, I've been working nights," he answered quickly. He realized that was no excuse, she still deserved acknowledgement, a phone call, and email – something, anything. He patted his leg nervously, slightly angry with himself for letting things get so awkward between them. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she shook her head as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her stance didn't appear angry, nor did she appear affected by his apology. She shrugged, "you're busy. You have a life."

"That doesn't give me any excuses, Abby," he offered her a smile. He never realized how much pain it could cause her that he'd married the woman that he'd been in love with almost the entire time that they were together, after they got, what he believed as, his second chance. "I don't mean to do it, honestly. Sometimes, you'll just have to call me. I get caught up, you know me."

She nodded, unable to do anything else.

"How is Lana?" He asked, the question coming out rather guiltily. He wanted to know more, be around her more, do more with her and for her; he felt like he was exactly what he never wanted to be.

"She's doing well. She misses you, but she knows that you'll be around some time soon," Abby offered him an apologetic smile, not wanting him to feel guilty. That wasn't her intentions, it never had been, and she was reluctant to tell him some of the things that she could see in her daughter. He was missing everything, and it was her fault he was, or so she believed.

"I will. We'll spend the day together or something," he nodded his head. He pushed himself up off of the couch, shoving his gloves into his pocket and dragging a hand through his hair. "Soon we will."

"She'll wait for you, Luka. She'll wait a thousand hours and a thousand days for you," he looked down guiltily, knowing that he had no right to make her wait. He bit his bottom lip, knowing that he knew just enough to get by but not enough to receive his title. "She's willing."

"I have no right to make her wait."

"You love her, she knows you love her," she watched as he stepped towards her, and expected to receive a touch or something, but he reached passed her to grab a mug to fill with coffee. She was oddly disappointed that he hadn't touched her arm, wrapped his arms around her, brushed his lips across hers, and she still believed deep in her heart that maybe she was better off. "She's always known."

'That's good," he nodded. He poured just enough coffee in his mug to have a good swallow, and just as he did so the lounge door opened to reveal that there were more visitors. Abby looked away from him and the visitor guiltily, but Luka seemed to go unnoticed. A locker door opened, and Luka glanced at the sound over his shoulder. "But – can you tell her anyway?"

"I will," Abby nodded and patted his shoulder blade lightly to indicate her exit, his body turning as he leaned back against the counter to watch her.

The door closed behind her and his lips were pursed in confusion, his eyes slowly drifting to the visitor. He offered her a smile, setting his mug on the counter, but the façade wasn't enough to keep the tear from sliding down his cheek, leaving a streak tainted against his skin. He didn't bother to wipe it away, and neither did she.

Sam shut her locker, not bothering to say anything, and moved towards him with her stuff in her hand. She set her coat and her bag on the table in the corner of the room, and seemed to appear at his side as she slid her arms around his waist. She pulled him towards her, letting him know she was there even though he didn't seem to acknowledge her touch.

His palm pressed desperately into the corner of the countertop before he moved his arm towards her until it was pressing gently into her back. He held her to him, clinging desperately to her just like the young woman had clung to him. He let another tear slide down his cheek, turning towards her slightly to wrap his other arm around her.

"I don't know what to do, Sam," he shook his head, his temple slowly meeting hers as his body collapsed into hers. She reached her hand up and rubbed his back soothingly, slowly making her trail upwards until her hand threaded into his hair. "I don't spend nearly enough time with her."

It hurt him every time he realized he wasn't the kind of parent he'd always vowed to be.

She pulled back from him, wiping a third fallen tear from his cheek, unable to see the tears splattered on his face for any longer. She didn't know what to do either, and the part that made it even harder is that she couldn't do anything at all to make it any better or any easier. There wasn't a single suggestion that she could make.

She wondered, just as much as he did, if it would ever get any easier.


	3. Chp3:Crash Into Me

He stared at her from across the table, silence a heavy blanket covering them and muffling the awkward breathing and uncomfortable sighs between them. He couldn't figure out something to say to her, and he mentally kicked himself as he guiltily realized that it shouldn't be so hard to talk to her, she was his wife. Absentmindedly twisting his wedding ring around his finger in his lap, he bit his bottom lip as she finally looked up at him.

Her eyes had been locked on the food placed in front of her, unable to stomach food deep into her gut, and her fingers manipulated the green cloth spread across the table. She knew that if she looked up at him she'd lose it; she was frustrated, not at him, but for him. She was to the point of tears, especially when she glanced across the table at the plate before him and noticed that he hadn't ventured to take a bite from his plate.

He not eating anything made her worry. He'd never not eaten anything, no matter how sick, how angry, or how bummed he was. She wanted to ignore everything in the room but him, tell him stories so beautiful and touch his pain away, but she couldn't do that for the sake of the quiet restaurant.

"She just…"

His voice didn't go any further; he couldn't force even a whisper out, a lob capturing in his throat as he choked back a sob. He shook his head, setting his fork down beside his plate, realizing that he'd moved on and left everything behind him – _everything_.

"Every time I'm happy and things are good she does this," he sighed, slightly exasperated as his jaw line stiffened at the entire situation. He looked away; wanting to aim his angers and frustration somewhere else besides her…He realized that she wasn't his outlet. "It isn't even my fault. Every time I try to see her, Abby comes up with some excuse. It isn't my fault, is it?"

She didn't know how to answer his question, being conflicted within from being the mother of a child who didn't have his father around, but she knew that in all reality it was both of their fault – maybe even partly her fault.

"Maybe, Luka," she leaned back in her chair, pursing her lips and letting her eyes close faintly sheepish, "maybe it is your fault. But if that's the case then it's her fault, too – and maybe partially my fault."

"What?" He fervently shook his head, narrowing his eyes in her direction. He bit his bottom lip, his emotions flooding with confusion and his heart swelling with love for his wife. He couldn't believe in the deepest corners of his mind that if she were to allow him to be at fault, she'd pin some of the fault on herself as well. "It isn't your fault. You have nothing to do with this."

"But, Luka, I do have something to do with this. You're my husband, and I knew that you and Abby had Lana together before we got married," she shook her head, leaning forward until her chest met the edge of the table and her straightened, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders. She sighed, gently shaking her head as a tear almost slipped down her cheek. "If I'm keeping you from her then…"

Her voice trailed off as her vocal chords seemed to freeze. She couldn't speak, nor could she believe that the thought was ever entering her mind. She was in love with this man, maybe even more so than she had been before, and it tore her up inside to even think what she was thinking.

"No, Sam, you're not," he spoke firmly, shaking his head just as firm. He looked at her darkly, as though he was a different man, and he shifted angrily in his seat. "Abby's the one that ended things between us, she was the one that told me that she didn't want to be with me."

"Luka, can you blame her?" Sam scoffed openly at him, his eyes narrowing in disbelief immediately as the words left her lips. She rolled her eyes at his anger, breathing in a deep breath to push the anger from her lungs. "You weren't in love with her. You were in love with somebody else."

"I still am in love with somebody else. What's your point, Sam?"

He sighed, obviously confused by her words and he shrugged. He picked up his fork and began moving stuff around his plate, anything to act as a distraction. Neither spoke for quite some time, both remaining uneasy in their awkward silence from across the table.

"I love you," he spoke softly from across the table minutes later, drawing her eyes from her plate in front of her at the sound of his voice. He finally lifted his eyes from the contents of his plate, offering her a smile that was slightly genuine. "I don't ever want to be without you, I hope you know that."

She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting back down until she felt his hand cover hers making her eyes immediately shoot to the contact.

"You don't have to be, and _I_ hope that _you_ know that," she looked at him hard from across the table, stretching her foot out until it met his leg affectionately. She just wanted to let him know that she was there for him to touch, and she pulled her leg back to her underneath the table. "I know that you love her, Abby knows that you love her, and she knows that you love her, but you know how children need the reminder."

He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes boring holes into hers. He pursed his lips together, not knowing how to please them all and yet wishing that he could, himself included. He wanted to be allowed to love his child, to see her when he wanted, and all the while love his wife and his stepson. He didn't know how to do that, or so he believed, and within 2 years he hadn't trained himself to do both at once.

"Look at me," she spoke gently, wishing deep down within her that she could reach across the table and draw his eyes back to hers with her fingertips pressed hard into his jaw line. Her gentle voice was more than enough to slowly draw his eyes up to hers from the table. He sat back, his arms stretched out across the table as he looked at her without emotion. "I love you, and, believe it or not, I love Lana just the way I know you love Alex. I want to do everything that I can to be sure that you can be there for her."

"Sam…"

"Luka, I don't think you get it. You think that I don't want to see you with her, and you think that I'm not okay with you and Abby having a child together. So what if I wasn't? It doesn't matter what I think because nothing should stop you from seeing her or telling her that you love her – nothing. You can talk about her, or you can talk to her any time you want."

"I love you so much," his voice was a whisper as he reached across the table and entwined his fingers with hers, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

----

She collapsed onto the couch beside her teenage son, dressed in her fluffy pajama pants and a gray t-shirt with the words "University of Kentucky" inscribed across it in bold and blue letters, and she pulled her legs up beneath her. Her eyes made a fleeting glance towards the clock on the VCR, and wondered if maybe she'd enforced Alex with a bed time for too long, but she forced the thought away. Her son was growing up, and it was almost time that there were some changes in their house to accommodate him.

"Alex, honey," she muttered gently, reaching out with one hand to play with the shaggy hair at the back of his head and tucking her other hand into her lap, "I need to talk to you about some things."

"Sure," he turned his body towards her, forcing her hand to flee form his hair. Even sitting beside him she felt so small, her once tiny son towering over her much like his father always had with the identical dirty blonde hair that his father had when he was younger and actually working. "What is it, Mom?"

She closed her eyes momentarily, holding back a laugh at the crack of her son's voice. It was the time of his life she'd always feared, the part that he was actually growing up – the years that would shape the man that he would become. He would be a good man, the opposite of the way his father turned out.

"It's just, Luka's really, I don't know how to say it," she sighed, shaking her head.

Brushing back her blonde hair from her eyes, she paused when she felt her son's rather large hand capture her wrist and pull her hand down. He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, his knee gently touching the seat of the couch. Her eyes shot open as her son let her into his best kept secret, his sensitive side.

"Just say it, Mom. There isn't anything you can't tell me, and you know it. I was there for you all of that time when you thought that you didn't need anybody," he gently reminded, his mother's eyes drifting from his face at the side of his comforting smile. He cleared his throat, wishing that he could get rid of the crack that it would have for an undefined amount of time, and suddenly realized himself how much older he seemed since his mom and Luka had gotten back together. "I'll always be there."

She nodded, breathing in deeply.

She didn't know what had changed him, but she knew that he was growing up too fast for her comfort. She was losing him in the worst way, to his teenage years which only led to adulthood. She pulled her hand back to her lap, the sound of her son's breathing keeping her focused on what had been on her mind, and the sound of the shower upstairs coming on urging her to continue.

"Luka's really going through some stuff, and I don't," she hesitated advancing, noticing in Alex's eyes that he recognized a change in her as well – she was not only a mother, but she'd also become a wife – and he was proud beyond words. Silently, he'd always be there for her if ever needed and, even more than that, secretly, he'd always be there for Luka if it was needed, too. "It's hard to explain, but I don't know what to do and I thought that maybe I'd ask you about some things."

"You can ask me anything," he nodded in agreement, his voice cracking once again. Man that was really getting annoying. The distant thought in her head called out to her, _you're 14 – well, almost – son, you shouldn't act like an adult_.

"You know what? Never mind, buddy," she smiled gently, dragging her hand through his hair as she pushed upwards to stand from the couch. His eyes followed her as she stood, eyebrows furrowed with confusion beyond belief, and he stood beside her. He looked down at her, his height exceeding hers by an easy half a foot, and she was caught off guard when she realized that he must of grown so much within a 2 year stretch. "My god, you've gotten so big."

"I'm almost 14, Mom," his body was changing, and he was experiencing 'the change'.

"I used to be bigger than you," she laughed in the back of her throat, disbelief in how fast her life had been moving. The water upstairs shut off, and her heart began yearning again because of the struggle that Luka was going through. She didn't know how to help him through it, but she knew that there was someone who could, if only she'd ask. "It seems like so long ago."

"Mom," he laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, "you know you have more to worry about than how tall I am."

"Yeah," she smiled at him politely, tucking her arms into her chest as she felt her son's cheek against her forehead. She turned slightly upon hearing Luka descend the stairs, his body tired and his hair disheveled with wetness. "You take good care of yourself – you hardly need me any more."

"I need you," he laughed, shaking his head slightly and he gave her a squeeze before releasing her completely.

"I'm going to bed, good night," she reached around Alex's waist and squeezed him once before she turned to Luka, "don't forget to get Cujo from the downstairs bathroom before you come to bed."

"Yeah," Luka nodded, dragging a hand through his hair as she advanced up the steps, his eyes following her until he saw the bedroom door close. His eyes drifted back to Alex as he turned on his heel to go into the kitchen. "'Night, Alex."

"Luka," he followed him into the kitchen, Luka pausing from not expecting Alex to follow him, "you're the best dad that a kid can ask for."

"Did your mom ask you to say that?"

He sounded defeated, turning to face Alex and leaning back against the counter of the center island.

"What?" Alex shook his head fervently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "No…Why would she tell me to say that?"

"Never mind," he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Luka sighed, moving around the center island to make his way up the stairs. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, turning to face Alex again. "I'm not exactly the ideal father."

"You're the best one I've ever head," Alex's jaw line stiffened as anger flooded through him, stepping hard against the wood floor as he made his way towards his bedroom. _What had happened to this man to make him believe something like that? _"I just wanted to say thanks for being there when I need you."

_What the hell had brought this on if Sam hadn't ever said anything? _


	4. Chp4:Throw Away the Rulebook

He'd wondered back to the kitchen table after he'd watched Alex go to bed, surprised at just how much bigger the little boy had gotten as he watched his retreating form. A long hour later, he was tired of mentally kicking himself, and he let the dog out of the bathroom before going to bed. Cujo had made it a habit, that Luka had tried to break many times, of sleeping with them since he was a puppy, Luka was also more certain that it was more because of Sam than because of him, even though it was meant to be Alex's dog.

He closed the door quietly, expecting his wife to be either asleep or at least on the edges, and attempted to shush Cujo as the dog padded across the floor. The dog jumped onto the end of the bed as Luka pulled his t-shirt off over his head and tossed it to the floor, looking back down to find the bed already crowded for the night. He smiled gently at his wife's still body lying in the center of the bed, the effects from his emotional day winding down.

He gave a fleeting glance out of the window at the sound of high winds; the downside of living in the "Windy City", as Cujo's gaze followed his, the dog startled. Luka caught the dog's panic as he began to show his teeth, and he quickly snapped his fingers to bring the attention from the wind's ruckus outside. Cujo looked at him abruptly.

"It's just the wind," he whispered to the dog in reassurance, the dog's tongue flicking out as he began panting.

He turned to sit on the side of the bed, dropping his pajama pants to the floor as he did so; clad in only his black boxers, he shivered in the night from the breeze of the cold air. He hunched over, buried his hand into his hair, and pressed his elbow into the skin showing on his thigh. Slightly surprised when Cujo inched up the bed and laid his soft chin on his lap, Luka's gaze shifted back to her over his shoulder.

He gently patted Cujo's head, his long fingers tapping against the tip of the dog's wet nose, and his fingers suddenly thread into the blonde hairs of Cujo's neck. He sighed slowly as the dog rolled over on his stomach, wishing that he hadn't started the mind games that the dog was beginning to play. He glanced back at Sam centered perfectly in the bed, and felt utterly exposed at the sight of her small gray t-shirt, one that he'd often had trouble snaking his hands into.

He looked at the dog once again, the dog seeming to automatically disappear onto the floor, and lay back onto the mattress, pulling his knees up until he was staring up at the ceiling. His eyes focused on a thin crack in the ceiling, his body nearly hanging off of the small space left for him on the bed. He couldn't blame her, she'd slept alone in the bed for the past two weeks – the first few nights were always hard for them to get used to all over again, well, in some ways.

He stretched out, tucking his hands under his head as gently as possible to avoid from waking Sam up beside him, but he glanced at her as she rolled over onto her back and onto the other side of the bed. He thought that she surely would have said something by then if she had been awake all along, and seemed to shrink inside at the thought that he'd woken her up. He glanced to the floor as an escape to see Cujo lift his head and look at their bed longing.

She reached up and rubbed her forehead, glancing over at him and shutting her eyes again tight, wanting to reach over and touch him just to be close to him again. It had been two weeks since they'd even slept in the same bed, and, at the way that she felt, it seemed that they could just let Cujo sleep between them. She'd figured out long ago that when he'd had a hard or off day to let him initiate anything between them while in bed.

She threw away all of the rules written in the book.

Rolling over slightly, she reached across herself and slid her hand across his bare skinned abdomen, lightly trailing her fingertips across the skin at his hipbone just above the waistband of his boxers. He pulled a hand from beneath his head and smoothed it down her upper arm, pulling her into him until he felt her chest press against his shoulder. Noticing that he wasn't lying beneath the blankets beside her, she smoothed her hand back up his chest until her fingers trickled across his jaw line.

He hadn't shaved all day, the stubble rough against her fingertips.

"Did you just get into bed?"

Her whisper drifted through the frigid air in the room, her voice dripping with the dry sensation of sleep. She sat up slightly to look down at him, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

"Yeah," he nodded his head firmly, loosening his arm around her a bit more. He'd fallen from the very core, and he felt like a failure. He didn't understand where he'd gone wrong in his life, but, apparently, one boy thought that he'd done something right. "I can't get to sleep – too much on my mind."

He said it as though there should be a careless shrug intact.

"That doesn't mean that you deserve to lie out in the cold," she shook her head slightly, watching him look at her with nearly dead eyes. She brushed the short hairs back from his forehead, watching as he sat up straighter, taller, and fully compared to her. "You're practically naked. The last thing that I need is for you to get sick just because you don't want to get into the bed with me."

"I was just thinking," he shrugged.

She suspected he had been.

He was thinking of how to be a better parent to his daughter; how to be the father that Alex never had; how much he wanted to touch her.

"I've missed you – seeing you, touching you, feeling you – I've missed loving you."

"Luka," she gently shook her head, a silent protest to whatever thoughts that were running through his head, and she pursed her lips. "You're not making any sense, I hope you know."

"I know, it's just been on my mind all day and I feel guilty because there _are_ more important things to think about," he shrugged, leaning back against the bare wall because the headboard had broken last spring when they'd moved the bed to clean the normally unreachable places. He groaned as his back met the cold wall, a jolting shiver passing through him.

He breathed in deep and looked down into his lap, locking his fingers together as the weight beside him shifted when she patted the middle of the bed for Cujo to join them. He almost sighed in slight exasperation, getting annoyed with the way that she babied their dog – until the reasoning suddenly hit him.

_Why else would she baby the DOG, of all things, when she had a child that she could baby perfectly?_

'You want a baby,' he considered blurting, but kept silent and bit his bottom lip.

He looked up at her, his eyes glazed over and filled with something, which was definitely better than nothing, and reached out to capture her cheeks in his hands. Her attention left the dog, in all honesty – quite reluctantly, and she looked at him, noticing the complete change of emotions in his eyes.

He moved in to press his lips against hers, ignoring Cujo lying between them, smoothing the back of his fingertips down across her cheek. He'd normally be aware and respect that the dog was in their presence, or at least on their bed, but this time he didn't seem to care about Cujo lying hazardously between them. She let a muffled whimper escape from her throat as she pulled back from him – she'd missed him so much.

"This doesn't feel right;" she gently shook her head, smiling at him apologetically, "let's put the dog in Alex's room."

He laughed in surprise at the back of his throat, his eyes widening.

She treated that dog like it was her child, which, he kind of was, but that didn't stop him from thinking that she was being a bit ridiculous.

"What? Don't do that," he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he rested his hands on his knees. She reached out and grabbed his hands in hers, entwining her hands with his. "Alex is probably asleep and doesn't need to be woken up by Cujo whining all night."

"He doesn't whine," she spoke with laughter in the back of her throat, lifting their hands and holding them in the air.

"He does," he smiled as he nodded his head slightly; his voice deadpanned and firm while at the same time bordering playful.

"I've never heard him."

"That's because he misses _you_," he tugged her hands towards him, "we can just put him in the bathroom."

"Put him in the bathroom then, I'll wait," she looked at him, her lips curling slightly as she was fighting back a smile. She'd win this one, she knew it the moment he arched an eyebrow and smirked at her. He shook his head as he wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling her into him as he placed his hands on her waist. "You're just going to let him stay in here? You've never let him stay in here before."

He shook his head as he dismissed what she said, pulling his hand from her waist and patting the side of the bed for the dog to follow. Cujo jumped onto the floor, looking up at Luka in confusion as Luka stared back at the dog.

"Lay down," he whispered gently, pointing to the floor. Cujo slowly and reluctantly obeyed.

He looked back up to find her staring at him, her eyes tracing his every move and his every outline as she pulled her hands from his waist and slid them down his legs. Her fingertips, her nails dragged across his skin and touched lightly against his knees as his lips pursed in slight confusion at the look in her eyes. He reached out and covered his hands with hers.

"Luka," she said his name gently as he moved from the bed, pulling her with him.

"No," he shook his head gently, his smile mischievous, and he gripped her hand tighter as he turned to face the window. He glanced out the window, noting the clear skies after a rather gloomy day, and guided her to look out of the window beside him. "Look out there." His finger pointed lazily against the glass, smudging it.

"It cleared up?" She ventured, holding back a shrug.

"It did," he nodded slightly, touching her elbow.

The streetlight below created a glow on the street, and the moon reflected a light that bounced in the window and across their figures. Glancing at her, her saw the look on her face as she turned slightly to look down at their dog, looking at them with question in his eyes, and the thought of her wanting a baby shouted through his mind, again. His heart swelled when he remembered that it was the reason they didn't work the first time and recalled her saying she'd never change her mind, and smiled slightly because he knew that she wouldn't always feel that way.

"I love you, Sam."

His voice was so gentle and sincere that it brought tears to her eyes, and he saw the tears begging to slip over the brims of her eyelids when she turned to look at him. She looked at him, taking in his bare chest, legs, and arms as she noticed him shiver in the air. He was naked compared to her, wearing pajama pants, a t-shirt, and socks even.

"You must be so cold, honey," she said softly, reaching out and wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling his body into his. She smoothed her hands across his back in attempts to warm him up, and paused momentarily when his hands met her waist. She pressed her palm hard into the base of his spin, pushing her hand up the length of his back, his body flinching into hers as he looked down at her with an awkward smile. "And you're slightly crazy."

He shook his head, didn't bother with any words, and leaned down to press his lips against her, first gently and then hard.

She found herself pressed into the glass of the window, her body shivering against his as she met the cold of the glass and his hands slipped up her shirt at the back all in one moment, leaving her to rip her lips away from his to gasp. His hands dropped from inside her shirt as he slipped them beneath her and lifted her, his hands pressing into her thighs and scorching her skin with red marks of where his hands had been.

Her hands pressed into the crooks of his neck as his lips pressed into the crook of her neck and then her throat. His hands slipped back up, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, and pulled it over her head as he pressed his body more into her to keep her from hitting the floor. Once her shirt hit the floor, inches away from Cujo, he let his eyes roam over her body as he pressed his bare chest into her naked flesh.

"Sam," he whispered, but stopped when he felt her shiver against him as he only remembered that her now bare back was pressing against the cold glass.

He stepped back and moved towards the bed, and clambered into her as she found her back pressed into the mattress. His lips found hers again for a moment, his hand finding its way to the back of her thigh, before he kissed his way down to her abdomen. He pressed his fingers into her hipbone until he hooked them around the waistband of her pants. Giving them a tug, both of his hands smoothed across her legs as he pushed them from her body.

Her hands left his body as she entwined her legs with his and slipped her index fingers into the only article of clothing he'd been wearing. Her lips dragged across his jaw line, kissing his throat, his chest, and down the trail of his stomach as he reached desperately to touch her in anyway possible. With a firm tug, his boxers were piled on top of the clothing pile on the floor.

He reached a bit further and locked his fingers with hers as he pulled her back up his body, pressing into her as soon as he had the chance. He covered his lips with hers as he did so, muffling the noise eliciting from the back of her throat.

As the sweat began grazing his skin, he pulled his lips away from hers with quicker movements and let his hands lift hers over their heads. He hissed in her ear as he squeezed his eyes tight, feeling himself close to losing control, the distant hope that she was losing control as well settling into the back of his mind.

Pulling her hands from his to wrap and arm around his torso and entwine her other hand with the hair at the back of his head, she pulled his body tighter into hers as every muscle in her body tensed.

The room went dark as the power surged all around the city, but neither seemed to notice as the room was dimly lit with only the moon.

"Baby," he muttered through clenched teeth in a raspy voice and between his rugged breaths, her hands pressing harder into his skin as she felt his chest collapse into hers. She didn't seem to know the meaning behind the single word breathed into her ear.


	5. Chpt5:All That I Am

_**March 2006**_

_There was a hard knock on the door jolting him from his focus of pulling something to drink out of the fridge, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looked poignantly at the door. He reluctantly shut the refrigerator door when another hard knock came, and made his way up the steps to the loft area of the front door. He wondered who it could be, because he certainly hadn't been expecting anyone. _

_He pulled the door open and sighed with his lips parted slightly, the sight of a very hormonal and crying Abby before him and sending him into the distant realms of confusion. He didn't bother saying anything; he just let his tongue smooth across his lips to wet them in place of words as he showed her his concern. _

_"Abby," he finally formed words as his hand clenched tighter around the doorknob, "come on in." _

_He gestured to the apartment as his hand waved around to indicate what he was saying, and he let his lips fall apart again. He was still very confused by her appearance because when he'd spoken to her earlier they'd decided…Oh, shit. _

_"No need," she shook her head ferociously as she objected as obviously as anyone ever could. She didn't want to bother with it all, and, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to bother with it either. _

_"Please come in, Abby." _

_She reluctantly agreed and entered the apartment, making her way towards the island in the kitchen with him on her heels. _

_"Luka," she said his name deep in the back of her throat through the lump resting heavily on her vocal box, and she turned on her heel to see him lean on the counter with his hip and his arms crossed in front of his chest. She shook her head, dragged her fingertips across her forehead, and sat down on the barstool to free her tired legs from the weight that had been resting on them all day. "You never showed up." _

_"I'm sorry," he bit his bottom lip for a moment, "I got tied up." _

_She sat silent for a moment, looking down to the hardwood floor. She suddenly realized that things between them weren't the same for him as they were for her, and things for him were so much different and meant a lot different than they did to her. She remembered that when they'd dated years ago he'd barely told her that he loved her. _

_She began to compare it to the relationship that he'd had with Sam – a place that she'd never wanted it to go. _

_With Sam he'd told her he loved her and they'd been together just a portion of time that she and Luka had been together when they'd dated before. With Sam he'd asked her to move in, and she was having his baby and he hadn't bothered to ask her. She realized that she was in love with a man that wasn't in love with her. _

_"What are we doing, Luka?" _

_"I was getting ready to have a beer and then head to bed," he shrugged, obvious confusion in his eyes, although, he could almost guess what she was talking about. He watched her with narrowed eyes as she held back a chuckle in her throat, her purse a black boulder in the middle of the counter between them. "Okay, that's not what you meant." _

_"No, that's not what I meant," she shook her head. _

_ "Then what did you mean?" He pursed his lips together, turning as he reached out to press his palms into the edge of the counter. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to force her appearance of red and crying eyes from his head. He opened them again to see Abby looking away form her, her eyes tracing the room. "Why were you crying?" _

_"We shouldn't be together," she shook her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. _

_"What? What about the baby, Abby?" _

_He reached out and left a huge distance between his fingertips and the small swell of her belly. She was four months pregnant, and that meant for at least four months that shouldn't have been together – and he refused to believe he'd wasted away four months of his life. Just because he refused to believe it didn't mean that it wasn't true. _

_"That isn't enough for us to be together, Luka. You know that," she shook her head as she finally stood from the chair and put a distance between them. She loved him, and her heart was breaking to tell him that they couldn't be together. "We can't stay together for the baby." _

_"Why not? We're good together," he watched her walk towards the back of the couch, knowing that she didn't believe what he was saying because he didn't believe them either. _

_"No. we're not. We've never been good together," she laughed quietly in the back of her throat, shaking her head as she turned around and leaned back against the couch. He didn't know where she was getting this idea; he'd always thought that it would be easier the second time around – he'd always trusted that there'd be a second time with her – but he'd also never anticipated falling in love with someone else, ever. "I wish it were different." _

_"This is different, Abby." _

_"Don't say that, Luka," she shook her head, finally containing her mixture of laughter and tears, "we can't put our baby through this, and you know it." _

_"Abby, what are you talking about?" His eyebrows furrowed deep and hard as he pressed his hands into his hips, confusion his focal point for the moment. He took a hesitant step forward, but stopped when he saw the tears glazing over her eyes. He pursed his lips together, biting down lightly on his tongue behind his tight lips. "I though that you loved me." _

_"I do love you, Luka," her voice was gentle but her eyes couldn't even slightly drift in his direction as she was speaking to him, and it silently ripped him about. She'd been his friend, to say the least, but she'd also been his lover and she couldn't even stand to look at him. It made him wonder what kind of life he was running. "But you don't love me. I can see it in your eyes, Luka…You're in love with somebody else." _

_"I'm not…"_

_He lightly shook his head as his voice trailed off, unsure if he could even finish the sentence. He knew it was a lie; he could lie to himself but he had no right to stand there and lie to her. _

_"No one needs to say who because we both know," she shrugged haphazardly, stepping towards the island in the kitchen to grab her purse. She had plans to bolt for the door, but she knew that she'd never make it. He wouldn't just let her leave without him having something to say. "It was too soon." _

_"Abby…" He breathed out gently, his breath warm across his lips. He reached out and touched her elbow, grabbing her attention. He looked down at her, his height towering hers as always. "I do love you." _

_She looked up at him, her eyes glazing over furthermore. She was silent for just long enough to see his love in his eyes, knowing that it wasn't the kind of love she wanted from him. _

_"You just aren't in love with me," she said gently, stepping away from his touch. She reached into the center of the counter and grabbed her back purse. Slinging it over her shoulder and heading to the door, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Where were you tonight?" _

_She turned to him, kept her eyes locked on the floor, and played nervously with her fingers. _

_He inhaled a deep breath and looked directly at her, leaning against the counter again as he narrowed his eyes at her with intensity. _

_"Someone needed me," his voice was barely above a whisper, barely audible to her ears across the room. _

_"I needed you," she countered, her voice surprisingly calm and collected all the while slightly shaky from the entire situation. She looked at him hard, her eyebrows rising on her forehead as she realized who he'd been with. "But someone else needed you more." _

_ "It isn't like that, Abby," he shook his head, disagreeing. _

_"I know, Luka," her voice was soft as she turned back to the stairs. She stepped up onto the bottom step, and paused. She didn't bother to turn to him, just kept her eyes focused on the ground below her feet as she gently shook her head. "Thanks for the baby." _

_He nodded as she disappeared out of the apartment, leaving him alone with his own worse enemy. _

_Himself. _

_He rubbed his face as he sighed through his rough fingertips, turning towards the phone face down on the counter. _

_He'd called John when he'd gotten in earlier, and spent almost an hour talking to him on the phone. John had needed him, had needed his help dealing with his pain. He'd told Luka that Kem was dying, and that he was going to Paris with her to watch her go peacefully. John had needed him more. _

_He reached out and picked up the phone, dialing the numbers that he'd memorized on the many late nights that he'd dialed them and simply hung up without waiting for the answer. He waited on the other end, cringing when he remembered seeing her face – eyes red and cheeks tear-stained. _

_The other end of the phone line picked up, and he sighed shakily as he heard the soft and gentle voice. _

_"Sam," his voice came out more broken than he intended, "I need you. I've needed you all along." _

_He closed his eyes briefly, realizing that **he** was the scum of the earth. _


	6. Chpt6:It Seems New

The waves beneath the boat made it sway indignantly in the wind, masterful and tearing through the relatively clear skies. The breeze and waves met in a gentle calming, the winds just enough to ruffle his hair. He stood comfortably with his hand pressed into his hipbone and with his other hand leaning against the guard railing wrapped around the distance of the boat.

It was just the kind of peaceful day that he needed after all of the trouble he had put himself through the day before.

He looked out over the water, the murky brown highlighting the coming of fall as the crisp air made its own indications of the season.

He was startled when the boat suddenly violently rocked in sync with a powerful sound of Cujo jumping to his feet and revealing a bark full of warning. Luka turned sharply on his heel at Cujo, his eyes slowly following the direction of Cujo's, his growl drowning out the sound of the bells from boats next to his. His gaze was sharp as he pursed his lips, and he stepped forward hard to silence Cujo as a small smile spread across his face at the sight before him.

He snapped his fingers at Cujo, the growl trailing off but the warning stance still tall; the hairs on the dog's back seemed to stand on their edge.

"You have a boat," a familiar voice burst through the look that Luka was still giving his dog.

"Yeah," he nodded firmly to accompany his simple word, the smile on his face widening.

"And a dog."

Luka simply nodded, looking down at Cujo as the dog's entire stance softened and looked up at his master. Luka smiled at his dog, reaching down and patting Cujo on the head with the realization that the dog was quite a large creature. He glanced back at the stranger, looping his fingers around Cujo's collar and stepped towards the door to the cabin.

"Let me put him in here," his voice was heavy with an accent as he'd been silent for a few good hours, "he can get protective of his boat."

He stepped towards the door and pushed it open, ushering Cujo through. He shut the door, Cujo's nose inches from the screen as he whined deep into the back of his throat, and he turned to face the visitor to find himself looking upward even more from being at the bottom of the stairs. He stepped up and took a seat along the side of the boat, reeling in the fishing poles with knowledge that he'd never been interested in the first place.

"And you have a wife," John Truman Carter III stepped into the boat, his friend pausing in his actions to look over at him, suddenly sheepish.

Luka nodded slightly as he laid his fishing pole down on the floor of the boat, and stood to move across the vehicle to get the pole on the other side. He saw John out of the corner of his eye eying his wedding ring from the front of the boat, his eyes diligently studying the golden band wrapped around the finger on his left hand. He sighed quietly into the back of his throat, standing upright to find his face met with the rush of the wind.

"What are you doing here, John? Does anyone know you're here?"

"I wanted to see you first," John shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he easily balanced on the rocking boat. He looked at Luka hard, noted the troubles on the man's face, and he sighed as he looked passed him and across the waters. "Well, I talked to Sam at the hospital…She said if you weren't at the apartment then you'd probably be here."

"Oh," Luka looked down at the ground, lifting his hand and twisting his wedding ring around his finger. The band glimmered off of the white paneling on the boat, his eyes drifting to the door at Cujo's whine in the moment of silence. "She makes fun of it, but I can tell she loves it."

"The boat or the dog?" John's eyebrows furrowed, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"The dog's her baby, and I accept that," Luka smiled politely as he glanced haphazardly at Cujo over his shoulder. His eyes drifted back to John, staring over the murky waters. "The boat is mine, and she accepts that."

"You love it, Luka. You love everything about it. You love the dog. You love the boat. You love days like this. You even love the petty little fights you two have," John smirked, almost knowingly even though a certain something rested deep in his eyes.

Luka shrugged and sat on the cushions beside the cabin door, wishing that he hadn't left his last beer on the railing earlier when the boat had began rocking roughly from side to side. He narrowed his eyes at John, the sun's rays suddenly being directly behind his friend and blinding him, and watched with much difficulty as John moved down the stairs towards him. He sat beside him, lifting his ankle to his knee.

"I guess she said yes," John glanced over at his friend, suddenly finding himself blinded by the sun as well.

"And a little over a year and a half later I'm remembering that I never called you," he bit his bottom lip as he fought back a laugh, finding humor in the situation. He continued playing with the band on his left hand, finding pride in it despite the way everything between them had been until it all panned out to be the way that they'd both desired it. "I feel like a jerk. I forgot to invite you and Kem."

"Don't worry about it," John smiled and waved his hand in Luka's direction, "we had other things on our mind."

A pause between friends, memories taking control of the moment.

"You never seemed like the type of guy to have a dog."

"I'm no good with fish," he laughed into the back of his throat, shaking his head tenderly as he glanced at Cujo again. He felt guilty keeping the dog cooped up in the cabin, and he decided that it would ultimately be better for his health if he let the dog back out into the sun. "Alex wanted a dog."

He stood, putting all of his weight on the foot in front as he pulled the door back and let the dog out. Cujo snaked through the gap in the door, cutting around the door as he rushed towards Luka. Just as Luka sat back down on the cushions, he found himself bombarded with the rather large Golden Retriever, blonde hairs flowing around him in the wind.

"You have a wife, Luka…You have a daughter, a stepson, and you have a dog," John sighed in surprise, soaking up all of the information he'd gathered that day.

"And I'm pretty sure that she and I procreated life last night," he sighed, dragging his hand through his hair as he revealed the only thing that had been on his mind as he looked across the water of the Illinois River. He hadn't quite figured out if it was a good thing that they had. He knew that she wanted it, he could see it her eyes, but he wasn't quite sure anymore that he could do it. "A baby, John."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You aren't married to woman for over a year and not figure out the whole…cycle thing," his fingers fidgeted in the air, his voice unsure of the wording and he pulled his hand back to press it against his knee.

"You didn't..." John's voice trailed off, but his question was loud and clear.

"We'd barely been in the same room for longer than 5 minutes for 2 weeks; the thought was the furthest thing from my mind," he bit his bottom lip as he scratched the skin of his knee showing because of where his shorts ended, and he gently shook his head. He didn't know why he was so confused about it; he'd wanted to have a baby with her for almost 4 years. "We don't have the room."

"It sounds great, Luka, I don't see what the big deal is," John shook his head. John could tell that Luka wanted to be happy, or maybe even that he was a bit happy about it, but the part that he didn't understand was the troubles that Luka had allowed to be induced in his mind. "I know you; you'll make room."

"Yeah, I don't know."

"Does Sam know that she might be pregnant?" John leaned forward, scratching his temple as he was genuinely unsure of how the conversation had gotten to where it was. He'd expected Luka to ask about Kem and the conversation to be awkward from there, but he'd found that they were still good enough friends to be comfortable enough with each other to talk about things like they'd been there all along. "…because it's definitely something to talk about."

"I don't think that she's even stopped to think about it at all. It might be in the back of her mind," he shook his head as he stood up and walked to the deck of the boat, leaning lazily against the rail, "but she was so busy this morning trying to get Alex ready for school while trying to get ready for work. I don't think that she's thought about her actually being pregnant as much has she's thought of how much she wants to have a baby. We haven't talked about it in a long time."

"You think she wants a baby?"

John pursed his lips together tightly, remembering that the last time Luka had talked to him about it Luka had told him that Sam had said that she never wanted to have any more kids. Luka was scared that they'd go on the way that they had been before, him wanting things that were never possible. And now, it seemed like Luka was the one that didn't want anymore children.

"She's craving the entire idea of having a baby. I see the way she looks at babies, children – the way she treats the dog even," he sighed, twisted his grasp on the rail, clenching his body tighter as he felt Cujo nudge against him. His eyes drifted downward to the dog, his eyes resting from staring at the sun ridden sky, and he sighed gently. "It's so fucking ridiculous. I'm jealous of the fucking dog."

John stared at Luka hard, his body flinching at the vulgarity in Luka's voice – a kind of anger he'd never heard from the man. Luka normally had a strong voice, but today – today he had the voice of a jealous lover – and John had never wanted to hear that from Luka. Luka looked from the dog and up at John, the man almost as tall as he was, offering him the only sheer suggestion of a smile that he could muster.

"Maybe she isn't pregnant, Luka. Just wait it out. Chances are that she isn't."

"Maybe," he sighed, his voice carrying softly from his lips with the most defeated tone he'd ever made.

"I have to go. I just came by to check up on you," he shoved his hands into his pockets and gave Luka a tender smile. He nodded slowly, walking up the steps and into the center of the deck.

"I think that I did it on purpose," Luka sighed, his eyes casting back over the waters, "anything to get her damn attention off of the fucking dog."


	7. Chpt7:Touch Me

Luka slowed his jog until he met a walk upon approaching the outer realms of his apartment building, holding Cujo's black leash tight in his hand. The dog panted heavily from running a good 3 miles along side his master, the years that Luka had on the young dog a secret to the rest. The dog stopped when he saw a patch of grass to the side of the sidewalk, the humongous size of the Golden Labrador Retriever pulling Luka back in a surprise.

"All right," he sighed while shaking his head at himself; he'd forgotten that the dog even needed to go to the bathroom out in the grass, and the thought had been the last thing on his mind all day. "Yeah..."

He unclasped the leash and let Cujo from the chain, watching the dog carefully for sake of keeping the neighbors from having anything to say. He knew that Cujo wouldn't take off; after all, he'd been on the houseboat all day and the thought hadn't ever entered his mind. If anything, the dog was more behaved than he was - no matter how confused the animal was left from time to time.

Luka captured the dog by his collar as he stood patiently on the edge of the sidewalk, and clasped the leach back to the collar before entering the apartment building. They climbed the steps slowly, one for exercise purposes and the other to slowly catch their breath; reaching the top of the stairs at the fourth floor, Cujo turned his head hastily at the sound of a creaking door.

Luka's gaze slowly followed, and he squinted tightly to narrow the ray's of the sun at the end of the hall. The tall man grasped 3 brown paper bags in his arms as he balanced himself against the door while trying to shove his keys back into his pocket. Successfully grabbing the sack about to fall, he glanced down the hall at Luka and Cujo and offered the tall, dark, and handsome Croatian doctor a hand of greeting. 

Luka raised his hand back politely as the man entered his apartment and shut the door.

An ease was left on his mind with the greeting of one neighbor who was a very successful man left as a stranger to him. They'd lived in the same apartment building for years and he didn't even know the man's name. All he knew is that the man had seen woman after woman come and go from Luka's apartment over the years, as Luka had only ever seen one woman come and go from his. 

Luka sighed as he tugged the leash in the direction of the apartment, Cujo hot on his trail as the dog's hot breath floated across the back of his calf muscle. He was tired, not from the jog, but his mind was tired. He'd honestly admit that he hated having days off because it gave him nothing but time to think.

He reached down and unclasped the leash from the collar, keeping his fingers looped loosely around the matching black collar around Cujo's neck. He bent low, crouching even to Cujo's height, and he scrubbed his hands across the loose skin around the golden retriever's neck. Cujo sat obediently as the only person to ever tower over him got down to his eye level.

"You're such a good boy," Luka smile as Cujo licked his face, the creases around his lips strong as he seemed to be captured in a moment of bonding. His smile was real and unhidden, and he was surprised that it was ultimately brought around by the dog. "I think Mommy's home."

He used the excited voice that you'd use with a child, and it only made him smile more. He found himself suddenly treating the dog the way that Sam treated him, as a child - as their child.

He gave the dog a final shake before standing up and throwing the door open, watching as Cujo took off calmly into the apartment. He slowly stepped in, hanging the leash on a hook by the front door as he shut the door with his foot, and paused as he heard Cujo suck up all of the water left in his bowl. He turned slightly on his heel to see Sam reach down for the water bowl and turn on the kitchen sink faucet to fill it up with fresh water, immediately setting it down to see the dog continue to drink water from the bowl.

He gave Sam a smile and a wave as he walked down the steps, his red knee-length shortsm, resembling gym shorts that they'd gotten Alex for his gym class, and his black t-shirt tight across his chest, and he watched as all she could manage was a glare.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, lifting his hands to ask the reluctant question. "What?"

"You know what," her voice sounded firm as she gave him another glare before turning towards the fridge, pulling out rotten vegetables and tossing them into the trash.

"No I don't know what," he shook his head innocently, his mind full of questions. He walked up behind her, a small gust of warm air seeping through the vents and spreading across his slightly chilled skin, and touched her elbow lightly. "Tell me."

"How much did you two run today?" 

She turned and looked up at him, clenching her teeth together to hold back a sigh begging to be released from her. He pursed his lips together as he bit his bottom lip, sucking on it as though it was giving him strength while he felt as though he was tonguing an open wound at the roof of his mouth. He dropped his hand to his side as he moved from behind her and reached around her for a bottle of water from the fridge.

"We ran 3 miles to the houseboat and 3 miles back with quite a few hours in between. It wasn't as much as usual," he shrugged nonchalantly, twisting the cap off of the bottle and taking a swig from it. He shook his head as he smiled, fighting back laughter from escaping the back of his throat. "That isn't what you're mad about, is it?"

"I'm not mad," she pushed her hand into her hip as she stopped pulling stuff from the fridge, turning to him with a tightened body. "Why would you think I'm mad?"

"Then what's your problem," his eyebrows dropped on his forehead as his expression became slightly angry and annoyed. He was taunting, utilizing his cannon points as he stood with an open water bottle in one hand and leaning against the refrigerator door with the other - looking sexy as hell.

"You," she countered back, her voice unable to hide the annoyance from him any longer.

"I thought you said you weren't mad."

He smirked at her, hitting another cannon to be released on her ship as he silently hoped that he would bring it to destruction instead of her ship self-destructing. Her jaw cocked slightly at him as she clenched her fists together. He took another drink from his water bottle before he smirked again as he capped the plastic bottle back, holding it tight and pushing that hand into his hip popping outward as he pushed most of his weight onto the one leg.

"I lied," she smirked, her cheeks fattening as she did so, and squeezed her hands to a close. She gave him a fleeting glance, turning from him as he set his water bottle down on the counter beside her, and he moved from his pose resting against the refrigerator until he was standing behind her, his chest pressed into her back. "Don't...Just don't do this."

He could hear the smile wanting escape through her shaky voice, and he was enjoying it too much.

"You want me," he whispered cheekily in her ear as he licked his lips; she could hear his tongue sliding across his soft lips and it made her heart lurch in her chest. Her body released tension as he lifted trembling hands to her shoulders, dragging his fingertips across the slightly exposed skin showing from her gray t-shirt. "I can feel it."

She smirked, feeling _him_ against her.

She leaned back against his chest as his hands slid around her waist, his hands resting on her abdomen, and his breathing hitched slightly directly in her ear. Her hands pushed against the counter as he pushed more and more into her, the friction between them slight as each pressured themselves into the other. His lips descended slowly upon her shoulder, her t-shirt a cloth between his soft lips and her soft skin.

"How can you be so sexy and so stupid all at one time?"

She sighed in content, wishing that they weren't standing the way that they were but were instead elsewhere. He grinned slightly as he leaned his body into hers in a search to press his lips against hers, and she turned slightly to give him an easier access. It was too much, but at the same time it just wasn't enough.

He shrugged to answer her question as she turned, his lips still locked to hers, and he smoothed his tongue across his bottom lip - grazing her lip passionately with his tongue. His hands cupped her cheeks, drawing her closer to him as he stepped back only to prompt her hand to pull him closer by the back of his neck, and she sighed into the back of her throat. She hated that she could marry a man and yet he'd still have the same affect on her as though it was the first - wasn't that what marriage was supposed to be about.

He finally took a hard step backward, his lips and tongue leaving hers only to leave her in a confused daze, his hand smoothing down her face and arms until he could grab her hand. He took another step backwards as his eyes found hers, hardly a blink passing between them, and lead her out of the kitchen. He turned slightly, her eyes drifting down his body as she pictured him beneath the red shorts with white stripes down the sides of them and the black t-shirt suctioned to his chest. 

_She had married the closest thing to a god on earth._

His hand left hers as he stopped with his lead and she suddenly found herself in control of her body all over again. She stepped forward as she pushed her hands up his back, between his shirt and his skin, and she circled her arms around his torso. Her fingertips pressed heat into his stomach as she slipped them into the waistband of his shorts, fanning her fingers out against his skin. 

He didn't bother to turn, just reached down and covered her hands with his which only made her fingertips press harder into his hips. He was so close to her, he could feel her warm breath trail through his t-shirt and across his skin, but she wouldn't say anything - she was reluctant to make a noise even. So, he didn't bother making a sound either.

She massaged his skin, and as she did so he uncovered her hands to grab and clutch his shirt in his grasp; pulling it off over his head, it brought her warm breath into direct contact with his skin. His back muscles tensed in her face as she pushed her hands further down his body and her fingertips grazed warningly over him, making him inhale deep into his chest. Her fingers suddenly stopped moving, and moments later he felt them drawing a pattern up his torso.

It was sensual, and yet it left him waiting to found out what would happen next.

He turned beneath her fingertips, dropping his shirt to the floor, and he reached out to capture one of her hands in his. He locked his fingers with hers, bringing their enjoined hands low to his side as he looked at her, and squeezed his eyes shut together as she inched her fingers of his free hand lower and lower until it tickled the skin just above the waistband of his shorts. He stepped back, his butt falling onto the armrest of the couch, and he willingly dropped her hands as she pulled both of them to his thighs.

She pushed her fingers up his skin, scorching it and leaving red marks of where her fingers had actually been, her hands disappearing under the nylon of his shorts. She forced her fingers under his legs, her thumbs making circles into his skin, as she leaned forward and kissed the bottom rib of his ribcage. He felt his hands urge out to touch her as he slipped his hands up her shirt and gently pushed his hands into her tiny waist, gently pushing her from him.

A lump formed in his throat and his breath hitched, her hands staying glued to his skin as she lifted her eyes to his questioningly.

"What's the matter?" She shook her head carefully, and he sighed as he looked down, tearing his eyes away from hers. She pulled one hand out of his shorts and pushed her thumb into his chin, lifting his eyes to hers. "What's going on?"

He sighed again as she stepped forward, her hips resting against the armrest between his legs, and he entwined his fingers together. He kept his eyes locked on hers, and he smiled softly wih a shake of his head.

"Sam..." her name left his lips softly as he felt her retract her hand slightly from his skin, "I think you're pregnant." 

"Pregnant?" She shook her head, laughing quiet into the back of her throat. She slowly stopped, looking at him with sudden seriousness. "No, I don't think that I'm pregnant." 

"From last night," he said softly, his eyebrows arching high. Both of her hands dropped to his stomach, her fingertips circling his sides as her thumbs pushed into his skin just above his shorts. "It was...You know."

"That doesn't mean anything," she shook her head, her fingertips trickling across his skin to make him shiver beneath her touch. He slid forward, closer to her, and it became obvious to her that despite his seriousness, he still wanted her. "You know that no matter what it's like it doesn't matter."

"But it was..." he paused, pushed his lips together, and forced his tongue to spit out actual words, "but we..."

He failed to form actual words.

"Luka," she smirked as she bit her bottom lip, her index fingers playing with the waistband of his shorts for about the millionth time - she obviously was craving to feel him. "Just shut up so we can have sex." 

Before he could say anything else he was inhaling a deep breath, surprised at her hands suddenly touching him. He had fallen behind to say the least, and he watched her carefully as he reached out the short distance and gave her shirt a small tug, slowly deciding that it wasn't worth her moving her hands from his body. He let his hands drift lower and slipped his first two fingers in the front of her jeans, swiftly unbuttoning them with a quick snap. He slowly unzipped them, his fingers being ripped from the metal zipper as she pressed her thigh into his leg.

She pulled a hand from him, her fingertips dragging slowly up the trail in the center of his stomach, and she pushed him back as gently as she could. Both of her hands seemed to leave his body, and his eyes seemed to snap open. He looked at her in confusion, his body, or body parts rather, throbbing to be close to her once again.

He watched with narrowed eyes as she pushed her jeans down her legs, biting his bottom lip harder than he even realized. He reached out as he sat up slightly and she straddled his waist, his hand smoothing over her thigh as she eased into his open arm. It was the long moment that their eyes were locked when he realized that they seemed to be wearing that of a pair.

His elbows propped him up slightly as she ran her hands down his chest and stomach, the touch alone making him hot and sweaty - his skin was sticking to the black leather of the couch. His fingertips slipped up her shirt until he could reach no further due to him leaning against his elbows, and he warily sat up to toss her shirt onto the floor with the growing pile of clothes. He did a lot of touching at the newly showing flesh, his hands trembling against her.

He was still unsure if the trembling was from him working out, or if the trembling was from the sight of her and her alone.

There was a sigh from her as he pressed his lips into the crook of her neck, divulging himself into the quiet shadows dancing across her skin. He turned slightly as he pressed her back into the couch, and he slowly worked his hands around her body and to her back, pulling her body into his as his eyes drifted to a close. Her hands smoothed down between them as she slipped them around the waistband.

He stood slowly, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and her legs wrapped tightly around his as he pressed his lips against hers, and felt a wave of chills pass through his spine as her fingertips began massaging his skin - once again. He felt her fingertips graze down him, which made him throb even more, and she tugged on his shorts until they seemed to slide down his legs. His tongue smoothed across her lips, her teeth, her tongue and a quiet sigh was elicited from her lips as she ripped the encounter apart.

He laid her back and covered his body with hers, the pressure building up.

"Luka," her voice came out rough, rushed, and he grinned at her widely as ignored it. Her voice came out gentler, "I hate you."

"You love it," he replied back, roughly, as they both groaned hard.


	8. Chpt8:The End of Past Regrets

Sam sighed, stepping out onto the metal fire escape through the window, and dragged her hand through her hair as the breeze quickly became a distant thought in the back of her mind. She'd been thinking nonstop for two days, since Friday when he'd mentioned it to her, of the possibility that she could be pregnant, and it just couldn't leave her mind. She'd tried everything possible to forget about it, but all of her attempts had failed.

The fact that he'd brought it up and told her that she was, or at least that it was what he thought, had weighed heavy on her chest – especially since she'd just laughed it off, and told him to shut up so they could have sex.

She glanced over her shoulder and back into the window, Cujo dropping to the floor directly in front of the window, and sat back against the side of the building with her knees pulled to her chest. The breeze flowed through her hair as the cold air wisped across her cheeks, stinging her wetted face from the tears silently sliding down them. She didn't know why she was crying.

She missed her son; of course, she still had him but he wasn't the little boy that he used to be and she was missing when he'd cling to her and love her in front of anybody just because she was his mother.

She'd been alone all day since Luka had gone to work and Alex had gone to the movies with his "friends", although, both he and Sam knew that she wasn't being fooled. She smiled politely and let him go, knowing that it was easier than putting up a fight. She didn't need an angry teenager's hostility in the house alone with her all evening.

She hated weeks that Luka worked nights and then had to work on the weekend, making it harder for them to catch up after the few weeks they'd barely had time to connect.

The wind hit her again hard, and Cujo lifted his head from the floor to look at a sudden noise inside of the apartment; she was left clueless. The sirens in the distance reminded her of work and how she'd had the weekend off. She'd spent Saturday with her husband and son – family time, and she'd spent Saturday night with her husband because Alex had gone out with his friends. She'd spent the day with Alex, making sure he cleaned his room as she cleaned the rest of the house, and the evening by herself.

She glanced at her watch, noting that it was almost time for Luka to be getting home from his 12 hour shift, and she leaned her head aback against the bricks of the building. The sun was on the realms of setting, and the glimmer of its rays bounced off of the metal on her watch and her engagement ring and wedding band. Her arm had never looked so heavy before now.

She'd never told her parents that she was getting married, and she wondered if they new that she'd even been seeing someone. The only people that really knew her and Luka had gotten married were the people that she knew in Chicago, and Luka's father. She hadn't even bothered to tell Steve, she hadn't called home to tell her parents, she hadn't told her brothers, and she hadn't told the friends that she'd talked to right before she moved to Chicago.

Chicago had become her place of refuge, her place of secrets, and her city of love.

She stopped and pursed her lips as she reached up and wiped the tears from her face – hoping to wipe away every trace that she'd ever been crying. She closed her eyes briefly, hearing the faint calling of her name but failing to acknowledge the call. She couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Sam," his voice was heavily concerned and the accent was thick as he poked his head out of the window.

He stepped out with one leg, stretching it far across the dog making his black slacks inching up his leg and revealing a black sack scrunched above the opening of his shoe, the skin of his ankle was tarnished by the wind as the long, black hairs stood on ends. Her eyes traced up his bottom, starting from his shoe, and inching up his body; her eyes barely grazed over his hips before he moved out onto the fire escape. His black slacks were tightened with a black belt and his royal blue shirt was tucked in tightly, and on his shoulders graced his black, leather jacket.

"What are you doing out here? You're going to catch your death."

She shook her head and rested her hands in her lap, his tall form over towering her with such ease.

He crouched low as he attempted to sit beside her, the fire escape barely big enough for him, "you don't have a coat or anything and the wind is blowing like crazy."

"Oh," her eyes drifted over at him as he groaned when he sat on the metal beside her, "I barely noticed."

He looked at her, noticing her inner struggle, and crossed his ankle over the other as he stretched out as much as possible on the compacted fire escape. He squinted as the rays of the sun hit eye level, and he entwined his fingers to rest in his lap. He pursed his lips together, looking over at her again to see her eyes wondering across the sky – seemingly unable to look at him.

"The apartment looks nice."

She finally looked over at him. He was so full of compliments, so thoughtful, and he hadn't ever neglected her; he'd always noticed when she'd done something around the apartment, and he'd always mention it even though she'd told him many times it wasn't necessary. She held her hands still in her lap, wanting to reach up and touch him but not having the will to do so.

"What's the matter with you?" His voice was concerned as he turned towards her slightly, noticing, for the first time, the tears that were and had been sliding down her face. He reached out to wipe the tears away from her cheek, but she reached out and caught his hand to keep him from touching her. "I don't understand what's wrong."

"It's nothing, Luka. I'm making things a hell of a lot more complicated than they need to be," she laughed quietly into the back of her throat, but her laughter subsided as she saw him immediately shake his head. His hair was disheveled, she noticed, with his bangs bouncing off of his forehead and his hair crashing into his sideburns as their length were noticeably longer. She wasn't sure that anyone else would notice the slight physical appearance, but she noticed. "I am."

"I bet you aren't," he pursed his lips together, finally lifting his hand and covering hers in her lap with his fingers overlapping hers and his fingertips pressing lightly into her inner thigh.

"I'm being emotional…Or something," she sighed warily, his hand gently pressing across the back of hers as he slid his hand over her skin.

"Maybe you're about to start your period," he shrugged, a smile forming on his face as a laugh was elicited from the back of her throat.

She reached up with her free hand and wiped the droplets of tears from her cheeks, her body shaking with laughter. She nodded with a smile still on her face as she looked over at him.

"Yeah…Maybe."

He lifted his other hand and brushed his thumb across her cheek, his fingertips sliding down her tear-stained cheeks. He turned, his back no longer touching the wall, and lapped his leg over hers with his foot flat against the base as he leaned into her. He lightly touched his lips to hers as he squeezed her hand gently.

"We should go in…It's going to get a lot colder," he touched his hand to the top of her head as he leaned back. He smoothed his thumb across the hairline on her forehead as he stood up, letting his eyes linger on her before he stepped back into the apartment through the window. He carefully avoided the dog as his foot pressed hard into the wood floor, looking back out there over his shoulder to see that she hadn't moved. "Please come in!"

His eyes showed concern, leaning back out the window to look at her. His face was met with the collision of winds, and he sighed at her.

"In a minute," her voice even sounded disinterested, as though her focus was elsewhere, and he reached out as far as he could to press his hand into her shoulder.

"Okay," he said gently, turning back into the apartment and patting his leg for Cujo to follow as he walked towards the kitchen.

He shrugged his coat from his shoulders, shivering in the cool room chill, and laid it across the back of the couch. Cujo followed him closely behind as he stopped and wrapped his hand around the door handle of the refrigerator door, pulling it towards him for a light to flood the room. There were no lights on in the kitchen or the living room, and the sun was setting fast in the world behind him – he couldn't bear to watch something so perfect.

He heard her slam the window shut from behind him, startling both him and Cujo, and turned abruptly on his heel. He saw her head shake gently in the shadows as she walked in his direction, her eyes focused solemnly on him. She inhaled deeply at the sight of him illuminated by the refrigerator door, remembering just how beautiful he really was.

"Decide to join me in the apartment instead of catching your death?"

He grinned as he reached into the fridge, pulling out a cold Budweiser as he moved his hand behind his back and slowly began to pull his shirt out of his trousers. He inhaled sharply as he felt her cold fingers skim up his back while he reached into the front and pulled his shirt out of his pants. He shivered, his body chilled and the fridge floating slowly to a close.

"Sam, you're acting weird," he pursed his lips together, as he turned slightly and glanced at her over his shoulder.

"I just want to be close to my husband. How does that make me weird?"

She laughed quietly, her breath hot against his skin, as she dragged her nails down his back and pulled her hands back to herself. She knew that she was acting a bit weird, her emotions running a bit wild and seeming a bit random, but she didn't know how to fix it. It just seemed that whenever she got around him, especially after she hadn't seen him for what seemed like days at a time, she wanted to just touch him to be sure that it was real and to reassure her that he was there with her.

"Not that," he shook his head before he took a gulp from his freshly opened Budweiser, "you're just crying one minute and the next you're in here all…Rubbing up on me. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," she lifted her hands up as she shook her head, stepping backwards until the small of her back met the edge of the counter. Luka slowly turned to face her, and he reached passed her to set his beer down on the counter behind her as shoved his other hand into his hip. She looked away from him sheepishly as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "It's hard to explain, I guess. Something in me is…Is craving you."

"You're full of shit," he smiled as he shook his head, taking a step towards her while he reached for his beer. His chest went into full contact with her outstretched hands, and he turned his head slightly to take a swig from the long neck bottle. He dropped his head, playing with the label of the beer bottle leveled at his chest, and he pursed his lips together. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't lie to me, Sam," he shook his head lightly, his eyes venturing upward towards her eyes but never looking at them fully. He exhaled in exhaustion and slightly exasperated, his nostrils flaring just enough to make her hesitate. He was irritated that she wouldn't share with him what was so obviously bothering her. "I know you. I know you enough to know when something's bothering you."

He looked hurt, and it made her heart jump in her chest. Her eyes glazed over and she hoped that she wouldn't cry again as her eyes drifted down to stare at the games his hand was playing with the bottle of cold beer. Normally he'd offer her one as well, but she noticed that this time he'd neglected.

"Are you unhappy with me, Sam?"

He lifted his eyes from the floor and narrowed his vision in her direction, not really looking directly at her but looking passed her. His eyes went back down towards the floor, catching a glimpse of her engagement ring glimmering in the rays of the sunset. They'd be standing in the dark if it weren't for quiet rays of the sunlight.

He reached passed her and set his beer bottle on the counter. His hand went to her tanned shoulder and his fingers slid down her arm, his fingertips brushing over the back of her hand. He wrapped his rather large hand around hers and lifted it, his thumb tracing her ring and band on her finger. He bit his bottom lip, her hand limp in his.

He lost his ability to breathe for a moment as he pinched the rings on her hand with his thumb and forefinger, slowly beginning to slide them from her finger.

She'd watched him with furrowed eyebrows. She couldn't move, couldn't say anything, and could barely breathe. Her eyebrows arched high on her forehead as she looked up at him questioningly, wishing she could urge herself to move. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out – lucky for her, he wasn't pulling quickly at all.

"No," her voice was barely audible and firm enough to make him lift his eyes to her face, "baby, don't."

He sensed the shake in her voice, and it made his body tense. He pursed his lips together and nodded, pushing them back down her finger until he could slide his fingers into hers. He looked back down, this time at their entwined fingers, and he drew circles into the palm of her hand with his thumb.

"I'm not unhappy with you, Luka, I love you."

"I know," he whispered, stepping forward as he pressed his lips into her forehead, "but that doesn't mean that you aren't unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy, Luka, I'm just terribly confused," she let her eyes close briefly as he pulled his lips from her skin and pulled away from her, his hand staying tightly locked with hers. His eyes began to trace her wedding band again, almost self consciously. She saw his eyebrows furrow low on his forehead, prompting her to answer the unknown question. "I can't remember the last time that I saw my parents, or even talked to them. I don't think that they know I'm married – that we're married. I don't think that they even know I met a handsome, Croatian doctor."

"That's okay," he whispered gently, his eyes leaving their hands as they wondered around the room, "they didn't do much to stay in touch with you. I'm sorry, but you had a little more on your plate than they did."

"I want to tell them – I want them to know about you because, besides Alex, you're the best thing in my life right now," she squeezed his hand and reached out to tug the front of his shirt slightly playfully, his gaze piercing through her. He smiled slightly, dropping her hand to cup her cheeks in his hot and rough palms, and his stomach muscles tensed. "You make me happy, Luka – You really do."

"I love you so much," his voice was gentle as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, letting his hands slide down to her waist. Her hands slid around his torso and pulled him closer by pressing her fingertips into the small of his back. He pulled away as he felt a hand delve into his hair, smiling at her before he briefly kissed her. "We'll figure it out."

"I know," she nodded as he grabbed his beer and turned to walk up the stairs towards their bedroom.

She watched him walk away, surprised at how scared the look in his eye had been. She'll never forget that look, because it scared her, too.


	9. Chpt9:Splash Waterfalls

His eyes suddenly shot open as he felt her fingers lazily drag across the torso of his tired body wrapped up tightly in the cool sheets, his stomach tensing as the hairs from his torso and below stood on their edges. He glanced at her and saw that she was still asleep; prompting for a smile to spread across his lips that she couldn't help but touch him even in her sleep. As her nails dragged across his stomach again, he faintly remembered a part from a movie that reminded him much like this moment: _she'd scratch my stomach in the morning when she wanted it._

He shook his head lightly as he lifted his hand to his forehead and pulled his hand through his hair, tightening his grasp on his longer locks. He glanced through half closed eyelids at the clock beside him on his nightstand, the clock's red numbers showing through brightly. He scratched his head with his hand still delved into his hair, knowing that it was still dark outside.

'_It's only 7:15,_' he thought, his hand drifting down to hers on his stomach as she slid her hand up his thin, white t-shirt.

"What the hell!"

He pushed himself up on his elbows, glancing over at his side as his, surprisingly, and still sleeping wife. He watched as her eyes opened slowly with her cold hand pressed hard into his stomach, almost glaring at his sudden movement. Her nails dragged slowly from his stomach as she pulled her hand to herself to tuck beneath her.

"Sam, wake up," his voice squeaked with the volumes he was speaking so early, his accent heavy first thing in the morning.

"Luka, shut up," she mumbled into her pillow as she buried her face into it and inhaled the mixture of coconut shampoo she used and the tropical fruit that he used. She wondered how she'd ever convinced him to smell so girly, but then she remembered that there was a reason that wives shop for their husbands. She tucked her arm beneath her, her chest being lifted from the mattress below her until she was no longer crushing herself. "It's too early."

"It's _7:15_," he sighed roughly, sitting up to an upright position as the sheets fell around his waist and he stifled a yawn. He tiredly scratched his stomach, his fingers trickling over an old scar as though it was the aftermath of rough battle wounds, and he narrowed his eyes hard into the bedroom door. "We're running late."

"Alex is so grounded after last night," she groaned into the back of her throat, rolling over onto her back, "I cannot believe he thought he could get away with coming in late."

He didn't say anything, in fact, he hardly heard her as he turned back to look at the clock again with narrowed eyes. The alarm hadn't ever gone off, and he was certain that he had set the alarm before he crawled into bed. He remembered distinctively, walking from the closet to the bathroom and back to the bed as he stopped to set the alarm along the way.

"Why didn't the alarm go off? I set it last night, didn't I?"

"You turned it off this morning," she sighed, watching him as he pushed his hand up his chest and rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly. There was something about his disheveled hair and his tired body that she always found to sexy – maybe it was just the fact that he was lying in a bed. "I thought that you were just tired and wanted to sleep in."

"I did?"

His voice was heavily accented, his native tongue almost screaming to be spoken. He looked at her over his shoulder, noticing her eyes drifting to a close again. He would have thought that she was going back to sleep if he hadn't felt her food crash into his leg.

"I think so," she nodded slightly as he turned his attention to the gloomy window, "I know you set the alarm. And I didn't turn it off."

He nodded his head as he reached over and patted her thigh through the bedding.

"Get up…I want to leave here by 8," he moved his hand from her leg and lifted the blankets by the hem from his body to climb out. He felt her hand slid around his waist and pull him back, her hand pressing against his chest and pushing him onto his back. "We're running late."

"We're already going to be late," she shrugged, her hand sliding down his stomach and up his t-shirt making her nails drag across his skin. Her eyes traced the features of his face, her fingertips making circles across his skin, as she lifted her other hand brushed the hair in his eyes back form his forehead. She inhaled deep as he reached over and touched her gently, the surprise being general because she was concentrating on his face. "You're so beautiful…"

Her voice stayed level and calm, as though she was mesmerized.

"You're so fucking beautiful," she muttered into his chest, her voice vibrating against him as she softly pressed her lips into him.

He could barely feel her lips through his thin t-shirt, but he still closed his eyes briefly. He couldn't believe that he was lucky enough to wake up to that every morning – he couldn't believe that he was lucky enough to wake up in love with someone that was in love with him. His fingers trickled up her arm and fanned out against her back as she lifted her head from his chest.

"If we don't get up now," he swallowed hard, "we won't make it out of here in time for us to beat the traffic to be on time."

His head was telling him to hurry up and get out of her grasp so that they could get ready for work and still get close to being on time, but his body was telling him that he didn't _need_ to get to work – not like he _needed_ her. He'd been trained to ignore everything that his body was telling him, it was a part of the profession, but he couldn't help holding her body to his. He hated weekends after night shifts; they let him get into routines of watching her freely.

"It's going to take at least an hour," she shook her head, smiling at him quite mischievously. She bit her bottom lip as she smoothed her palm across his body, pulling her nails down his side to make goose bumps appear across his body, and he couldn't hide it. "I have to take a shower, and you have to take a shower. You have to wait for at least 20 minutes while I'm in there."

She was teasing, and he hated when she did that because she was usually right.

"I guess we can skip your 20 minute shower," he grinned, lifting himself up and pressing his lips into hers.

He kissed her hard as he flipped the tables, pushing her onto her back as he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed his other palm flat against the mattress. He slid his body over hers, his hips pressing into hers as he breathed deeply through his nose, and he let his guard down for just a moment. As he felt her hands glide up his sides, he stepped to the floor and separated himself from her.

Her hands were ripped from his body, her nails being pressed hard into his back and leaving scratch marks on his skin and her bottom lip was tugged as he left her slightly confused.

He made his way down the hall and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He reached into the shower and turned the hot water on, using everything in the bathroom as a distraction to his throbbing pain. It hadn't taken much – damn women.

He closed the shower door and turned around, dragging his hands through his hair and letting his bangs fall back down around his face. He turned to grab a towel from behind the toilet and set it on the counter and saw his wife as she opened the door and closed it quietly behind her. A scowl immediately crossed his face and he only continued to place it on the counter before he shoved his hands into his hips.

"You can't have my shower…"

"I don't want your shower," she shook her head as she stepped eagerly towards him, reaching out and grabbing his shirt by the hem. She pulled it from his body, lifting it quickly over his head and tossing it to the floor behind her, pushing him back until he met the glass door. The door shook violently as he pursed his lips; his eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he looked down at her and raised a hand to her waist. "I want you."

"You have me," he shook his head slightly, lifting his other hand and brushing her hair back from her face, "always."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue tracing along her soft lips as he was seeking – begging – for the entrance into her mouth. Her hands slipped into the waistband of his boxers and pushed the clothing from his hips, the contact with his flesh making him turn and press his body into hers. He slid his hand up her tank top to pull it off over her head. He reluctantly pulled his lips from hers to pull her shirt from her body and throw to the ground, the shower door behind him opening.

The water splashed to the floor as they dropped the remaining pieces of clothing to the floor. With the materials no longer standing between them, they both stepped into the shower as their lips found the other's again, the water beginning to cascade around them.

She was pushed into the water sprinkled wall of the shower as his hands trailed down her body and slid beneath her thighs, lifting her from the floor until they seemed to be at the same height. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed his lips into the crook of her neck, sucking, biting, licking, teasing her as she did the same to the skin below his ear – her fingers messaging the back of his head through the wet hairs hanging over at the nape of his neck.

He jammed his body into hers, her mouth biting down hard into his skin as her back pressed into the wall harder than she'd expected. His palms went flat against the surface of the wall as he pulled his lips away from her skin to kiss her lips again. The kiss was brief and only lingered for a moment, one hand leaving the wall and sliding down her neck, her chest, her stomach before he plunged into her again.

He breathed out, clenched his teeth together tight to hold back a groan – the noise was there, but quiet in the back of his throat – and leaned his forehead against hers as he struggled to keep his entire body from collapsing. Both of his elbows pressed hard into the wall to keep all of his weight from falling against her, his chest pressing just enough against her to make her hiss out in his ear, as he moved his head passed hers and against a closed fist. Her arms slid around his torso as her hands gripped onto his skin.

He exhaled in her ear, his warm breath giving her chills across her wet skin.

"Sam," he breathed out heavily in her ear as he gasped for air. His chest was rising and falling quickly, as though it was a horserace, and his breathing was just short of being volumes louder than the water poring from the overhead of the shower. "I can't…"

His knees almost buckled beneath him, but, instead, he forced himself into her again as his hips pressed hard into hers. His bones ground into hers, and his mouth fell open as he continued to grasp for air – anything to make him keep going.

The water pelted against his back, the water mixing with the sweat protruding from his body, and her fingers trickled up his spin. He still struggled to breath in her ear, but that didn't keep her from pressing her face into the crook of his neck and doing to him what he'd been doing to her. He squeezed his eyes shut until he seemed to see nothing but black spots and he let a hand smooth down her body to graze over her sensitive areas.

"Don't," he almost cried out as his hand immediately flew up to the top of her spine, his arm looping around her body.

Thrusting into her again with his arm between her and the wall, the breath was suddenly knocked out of her as she struggled to keep from screaming so loud that she'd wake up the entire block. He clenched his teeth together as he put all of his weight into her, slightly surprised when her hands cupped his face and drew his lips back to hers.

She pulled back, as they clenched their teeth in unison, and inhaled deep as he took a final plunge before they both seemed to crash to the ground. He was definitely thankful that their shower was nig enough to do that in, and, god did he no longer care about being late to work. He was flushed as he lay on his back and gasped for air, his breaths quick and shallow, the water cascading against his torso.

"We're never…Going to find…A house…With a shower…As big…As this."

She gasped for breath beside him, sitting up and leaning back into the shower wall. She watched him as he smiled while he looked over at her, the water getting colder and colder as it fell against his skin.

_It was going to be a long and tiring day. _


	10. Chpt10:Beautiful Disaster

_**November 2006**_

_She heard the front door in the living room, in her living room, shut from her place in the kitchen, knowing that Luka had been kind enough to show the last remaining guests out of the door. Ever since she had gotten back together with Luka things had been nothing, not a single moment, short of disaster and she knew that quite a few of the guests would most likely feel rather uncomfortable with the entire situation but were far too kind to decline an invitation from a co-worker. The staff of Cook County General Hospital wasn't known for their compassion towards others. _

_She had guessed that people had only agreed to come because Abby had agreed to come, she'd asked because they were still friends - regardless, and they didn't wish for her to be uncomfortable. She wasn't ashamed that she was in love with someone who had so much baggage, such a difficult past, but she was reluctant because of their past. She had to admit, it had been difficult to live without him. _

_She was standing in the kitchen and doing the dishes in the sink, the warm water trickling across her rigid fingertips. The sound of the water flowing from the faucet was almost soothing, calming her nerves to the very core. She suddenly pursed her lips together, shaking her head at the chaos of the evening. _

_It had been nothing but trouble from the start. _

_The turkey had been burned on the outside and yet raw beneath the rough, leathery exterior, making her wonder how she'd ever managed that. The mashed potatoes hadn't been completely mashed, but too lumpy for anyone's taste - especially Alex's as he had nothing but complaints for her. There was some kind of food that she couldn't even recognize to the point that she didn't even remember what it was she was trying to make in the first place. _

_She frowned upon her food, and was the only person sitting at the dinner table brave enough to sit there without eating anything. Everyone else had politely smiled, taken a bite, and attempted to hide it as they spit their food out in their napkins. Needless to say, the stuffing from the turkey had been up and anything out of the cans was gone. _

_She glanced half-heartedly over her shoulder at the blackened turkey, and scowled at it. Had it been something she'd done, or had it been simply by chance? It was...Chaotic. _

_He walked in quietly, stopping in the door way as he watched her doing the dishes, and he folded his arms in front of his chest as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. He stood there silently, captivated by the passion that she had - even though she was just doing the dishes she was eliciting a passion that was almost unbearable. He hated this - he felt like they were back to the basics. _

_He watched her as she stacked yet another dish on the counter beside the sink, his breathing constricting in his chest. He pulled his hand down his chest, his fingertips shaking against the soft material of his cotton sweatshirt, and he pressed his other hand into his hip. He stepped forward, too hard for is liking, but his presence still went unnoticed. _

_"Sam..." _

_His voice trailed off, but he had no other choice. His mind was reaching for anything adequate to say to this woman with great strengths, for this woman that he knew he couldn't live without. He pursed his lips together and bit his bottom lip, stepping further into the kitchen. _

_"Marry me." _

_"What?" She turned sharply on her heel, her voice and face confused as she looked into the eyes of this man who was looking back at her with passion filled eyes. She quickly looked away, unable to deny what he made her feel. "Luka, tonight was a disaster. Imagine what the rest of our life would be like" _

_"Tonight was beautiful," he scoffed, shoving both of his hands into his hips. He stepped closer, her body heat faint against him through his clothes. He reached out and touched his palm to her neck, his thumb gliding across her jaw line as he drew her eyes back to his. _

_"It wasn't beautiful, it was a disaster," she shook her head slightly as her eyes glazed over, the tears softly grasping onto her eyelids. _

_"It was, but it was beautiful as well," he nodded in agreement as he shrugged, his hand shaking against her skin. He was surprised he wasn't on the floor having convulsions at having just asked her to marry him - that was enough to make any person shake. "It was a beautiful disaster." _

_He hand was suddenly ripped from her skin as she almost violently tore herself away from him, turning her back to him and looking at the charred turkey - my the mess she was in. _

_"This is a mess," she gestured around the room to indicate the entire evening, "I'm a mess. We're a mess. Why the hell would you want to marry me?" _

_He was flushed as his face went slightly red and anger began pumping through his veins. He looked away from her as he pushed both of his hands into his hips again, biting his bottom lip hard as his eyes were clouded over by a thin layer of tears. He narrowed his eyes at the wall, beginning to study the room of the apartment he hadn't quite let himself get fond of at all. _

_He hated her apartment - she was no longer mixing her mess with his - and he willingly rip all of the walls down with his bare hands. _

_She cocked her jaw as she slid her hand across the countertop, knocking the ruined turkey into the trashcan pressed into the side of the counter. She turned around to look at him, taking in his slightly broken appearance as she touched her hands to the opposite elbows and hugged herself. Her eyes were tracing his outlines, his features, his entire being as she pushed her lips together tightly. _

_"Why would you want to be with me?" _

_She licked her lips adorningly, her fingers pressing hard into her skin. His head snapped towards her as his eyes narrowed in her direction, and he pushed his tongue into his cheek. He couldn't believe that she'd ask him that, ever in his life. He thought he'd made it clear - he couldn't live without her. _

_"Because I love you, damn it!" His voice rose in the back of his throat and his body shook as he tried to swallow back a lump, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He licked his lips as he took a swift step towards her while exhaling a breath, and he pressed his fingers into the back of her neck as he pulled her into him. "I was without you once and I don't want to be ever again." _

_He pressed his forehead into hers, breathing heavily as he tried to hold back the tears. _

_"You tried so hard tonight. Even though it was a disaster it was beautiful - you made it seem beautiful because you're so amazing. I don't deserve you, Sam - I deserve for my life to be hell and when I'm with you it just isn't possible." _

_"I'm not..." _

_"You are. You invited Abby and my daughter over for Thanksgiving dinner for crying out loud - you're a fucking marvel," his chest was hit hard enough to almost knock the breath out of him as she pulled her hands from herself and pressed them into his chest. He was always so gentle, but at the moment he seemed to be too caught up to even notice. "That's why I love you so much that I can't live without you." _

_Her eyes closed as she slid her hands up his hard chest and wrapped her frail fingers around his neck to pull his body into hers, her lips crushing against his. The kiss was angry, it was passionate, and it was hungry. Her tongue swirled the edges of his lips to plea with him her quest, and just as he slightly parted his lips her tongue slid across his. _

_He pulled back as he grasped for breath, his eyes trailing down her body - momentarily fixating on her slightly enlarged, protruding breasts as they seemed to peek out of the top of her dress - his hot breath easing down the length of her chest as he exhaled heavily. _

_"I need to have you," his voice came out barely audible through his rugged breaths. _

_He was so breathless as he had so many emotions pumping through his veins, his body throbbing at every inch of him. He let his eyes move back up her body to look into her eyes, only finding her eyes still closed. He tensed slightly as he felt her hands tighten of the back of his neck, wishing with every inch of him that he didn't have the temptation of her being pinned between him and the kitchen counter. _

_"Take me," she murmured, her breath trailing across his lips as her lips slowly followed the trail to his mouth. _

_He seemed to inhale her, suck every last breath from her lungs as he let his fingers float down to her waist from her arms. He shoved his hands into her skin around her torso as he lifted her to set her on the counter, making their lips part. He lifted his hand back up as he grazed his fingertips across her protruding area, brushing the hair back from her face. _

_"I need to have you forever," he whispered into her shoulder as he let his hands smooth back down her skin and wrap around her waist, his hips pressing into the edge of the counter. _

_"You'll always have me," her hands pulled him by the back of the neck to make his lips meet hers, her arms sliding around his shoulders. She let her hands go under his arms and slide up his back, kissing down his jaw line until she could divulge them into the crook of his neck. She felt him tilt his head he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her legs around him. "Always." _

_Her voice vibrated into his neck, trailing across his skin as it sent shivers down his spin - heightening the beauty overt he disasters of the evening. _

_It was beautiful. _


	11. Chpt11:Feel Me Breathe Again

The room was beautifully decorated, and Sam just couldn't seem to recall why for the life of her; she had no doubts that she was supposed to remember and that there was vital reasoning, but she just couldn't seem to rack her brain hard enough for it to shout out at her. Although it seemed to slip her mind, she knew that it had something to do with one of her co-workers. It could have been any of the women present there with her: Neela, Abby, Inez, or even Haleh – but she had a feeling it was something more about a child, the decorations were a bit too childish for one of these women.

_Oh, god,_ the words seemed to rattle throughout her mind as it ripped open her heart to shred it to pieces, _Lana_.

Little Lana Lockhart was sitting triumphantly at the table as her mother stared at her adorningly, Sam's own eyes beginning to do the same as her heart swelled with love at the resemblance Lana had to her husband. It was amazing just how much she looked like Luka, and Sam put her hand to her lips as she moved to sit at the table next to the small child. Her veins were throbbing as the blood pumped erratically throughout her body, giving her a sense of guilt as the little girl captured her heart.

_How old was the little girl now? One? Two? _

Had she really been with Luka again for over 2 years? She couldn't seem to remember. Some days it felt like she had been with him a lifetime, other days it felt like it was brand new – as though it were a brand new feeling. Both feelings were really good, considering the first time it had just felt repetitive.

Lana looked up at Sam and instantly she knew who she was – well, she recognized her. Sam wasn't even sure what she was to the little girl, and that seemed to send a 40 inch knife straight through her heart. She didn't feel like this little girl's mother or stepmother, and yet she loved her like she was; nor did she feel like just an acquaintance sitting in the presence of a beautiful little girl.

Lana was beautiful – Sam smiled – she looked just like her father.

"Sam, is Luka coming?"

She barely heard Abby ask the question, a hint of anger mixed with hurt deep in her tone of voice, and Sam's attention was reluctantly brought from the dark haired and pale skinned little girl. She reached her hand out and offered Lana a finger for her to play with and as she clutched it tight in her little hand, she waved it around in the air. Abby smiled…_With what_...Sam asked herself…_Pleasure?_

"He wouldn't miss it for anything," Sam replied solemnly as she shook her head and kept her eyes locked on Lana. _Is this what her little girl could look like?_

She'd faintly remembered Neela saying that Gallant had been tied over at the clinic he'd worked whenever it was possible and not conflicting with his schedule at the hospital, and hoped that he wouldn't be tied over for too long. She adored this man like he'd been a friend for life – his generosity, politeness, and friendliness quickly drawing her to the conclusion that he was a good man. Neela had gotten herself a keeper, and Sam could tell that she had no intentions of letting Gallant go, just like Sam felt with Luka.

Haleh started singing softly to Lana as she took the seat on the other side of Sam, and she immediately knew that the attention she was going to receive from the little girl would be next to none as she got her own private show. Haleh sang beautiful, Sam remembered from the Christmas party, and she knew just how much Lana loved it when Haleh sang. Lana reached towards Haleh as Sam stood from her chair to let Haleh sit next to her, her heart breaking a bit as she knew that this little girl would never see her as family.

Sam stepped towards the table to join Neela and Inez, absentmindedly letting her hand drift down her chest and lightly touch her abdomen as though there was a distant pain, brushing passed Abby as the woman wondered towards the table to join her daughter. She offered Abby a smile, and pulled the chair out beside Neela to sit down, her fingertips pressing hard across the tale as she slid them to her ice water for a refreshing sip. The drink was cold down the back of her throat as she turned slightly to watch Abby with Lana, wishing that for once she would get acceptance from someone – anyone – of her friends.

She didn't know that everyone that she knew could be so loyal even after 2 years, but the fact was that even so, she and Abby were friends and had been for quite a long time. Abby had known all along that Sam's intentions weren't to hurt her but rather to be with someone that she loved and who loved her. If it was thought about and taken literally, both women had been hurt by the same man – no matter how good of a man he truly was.

Sam's hand skimmed up her shirt until it came into direct contact with her skin, her fingertips pressing gently into her stomach.

The door opened gently and rather quietly as the two men in her life walked in with Gallant trudging in front of them, Luka smiling widely as he lifted his hands and grasped Alex by the shoulders to give them a tight squeeze. He looked over and gave his wife a firm nod as he dropped his hands to his sides to shove his hands into the pockets of his flannel coat, and his settled on his daughter as the light in them quickly returned. He quickly stepped passed Gallant and Alex, picking up his pace upon seeing his daughter.

"Hello little girl," Luka said gently as he leaned over Haleh and waved, his daughter's attention being ripped from Haleh's singing for the first time in minutes. He was happy to see her as his happiness shown like lights in his eyes directly to his soul, everything within him rising. He pulled back from his crouching position and looked directly at Abby, pursing his lips tightly as his stare grew a bit cold. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No," Abby replied rather monotonously as she lightly shook her head, her eyes immediately leaving his frame.

He nodded as he brushed passed them both and shrugged his coat off to hang on a chair. He seemed so absent, moving mechanically as he seemed to do these things, and he settled his coat on the back of Sam's chair. He knew that Abby was watching him – them – with the feeling of her eyes on his back and burning deep into his skin. He wanted to say something, but he had nothing to say to her.

"Hey," Sam whispered gently as she glanced at him over shoulder, his hand lightly touching her shoulder as his other hand slid down her arm until he covered her hand with his own. He looked at her questioningly with narrowed eyes as he entwined their fingers and his fingertips came into contact with the soft skin of her stomach. "I see that you found Alex and Gallant."

"Yeah, I did," he nodded, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand before he removed it as he glanced around the room. Alex huddled up behind his mother and stepfather, offering Inez a smile over Luka's shoulder – Luka and Sam both knew of his crush on the woman from the Bronx but they'd never tell him that they knew about it, they thought it was kind of cute. "I had to work a little late anyway."

He heard Lana giggling a table away and his attention slowly went to her as his eyes glazed over, his heart aching from missing her for so long. Her eyes still rested on his face, tracing the side of it as he turned away from her and fighting the temptation to reach up and trace his face with her hand, knowing that for the rest of the evening his heart and his attention belonged to his, now, 2 year-old daughter. Their hearts ached in unison, their pains mixing as though they one and the same, although, they were quite different.

"Do you play pool?" Sam faintly heard Gallant ask her son as she watched her husband slowly turn away and drift towards the other table. Alex nodded firmly as he slid his jacket from his shoulders, he really was getting tall and it was almost scaring his mother – and he folded it up and pushed it under his mother's chair. "How about a game?"

Sam's adoration for Michael Gallant was getting stronger by the moment as he seemed to do his best to make Alex seem like he was a part of them – like he was an adult. Alex had grown up a lot in 2 years, _god, was he really almost 14?_ And everyone could see his struggle to become a teenager as he was willing and ready to become an adult, no matter how much his mother wasn't prepared. He was going out without parents, kissing girls, and getting grounded for coming in late – he was in his teenage years.

"All right," Alex nodded in agreement.

"Alex, you want something to eat?" Sam asked him as he passed her and followed Gallant towards the open pool table. He paused as he looked at Neela, blushed when his eyes guiltily settles on Inez for a moment too long, and then looked at his mom while shaking his head. She pursed her lips as he seemed to move passed her at his attempts to ignore her…He wasn't speaking to her. "Let me know when you do want something."

He was already gone, obviously still angry with his punishment from coming in late, and dead set on ignoring her when it was clear that he wasn't ignoring Luka. She had the title: _Mom, the Enforcer_.

Luka sighed defeated in her ear as he reluctantly pulled up a seat behind her, seconds later Abby walking by her with Lana in her arms. He attempted to smile as he glanced at Gallant and Alex beginning to play pool, and his eyes drifted to Neela. A slight grin spread across his face as he forced Abby's attitude away from his mind for a moment.

"Your husband going to teach my son a few old Army tricks?" Luka muttered to Neela over Sam's shoulder, gently pushing himself up from his chair and hovering over his wife. He glanced to Abby in search of his daughter as she openly winced while sitting down in the free seat at the table, holding Lana tight in her arms. "Alex is pretty good. I taught him everything I know."

"From what I hear you're quite the master of the table," Neela muttered with a smile, lifting her beer bottle and taking a swig. Luka grinned sheepishly as he looked down towards the ground, his hand absentmindedly floating up and down Sam's arm. "You don't give anyone a chance."

"That's not true," Sam laughed lightly, shaking her head as she leaned forward to get her glass of water and her eyes narrowing at Neela a bit playfully, "he's a hustler."

"A hustler? Dr. Kovac?"

"He makes you think you have a chance, and when you get down to one or two balls he runs the table," Abby piped up, soothingly rubbing Lana's back. She could see Luka out of the corner of her eye looking in their direction slightly hurt, and she mentally kicked herself for being a bitch towards him. It wasn't his fault he wasn't there with her, married and raising their child together, it was hers – she'd ended things between them. "Just like that – you've been hustled."

"I don't do that," he argued, looking around the table at the 4 – 5 girls and narrowing his eyes confused. He pulled his arms up to his chest and crossed them, clutching his elbows tight in his hands. His black button up shirt was silky against his rough fingertips, and the hem of his shirt covered the waistband of his jeans as it wasn't tucked into his pants, his belt only visible if you look hard enough. "I'm not clever enough."

"You're standing here arguing with us, the two people who refuse to play against you because you're an ass when you win," Sam said as she shook her head and stood from her chair, Abby nodding her head in agreement as she stood up to go get another water form the bar. Abby stood beside her, her reasons still unknown although still clutching Lana tight to her chest. "We can just call Alex over here and ask him."

"Alex wouldn't know," Luka laughed into the back of his throat as he shook his head, "I've never played that way with him."

"Nice confession, you liar," Sam laughed as she walked passed him towards the bar while slapping his behind, her hands being on him for the first time that evening. She was oblivious that Abby had finally smiled and passed Lana off to her father, Luka's eyes lighting up at the ability to hold his daughter again. She was also oblivious to Abby walking passed her to go to the bathroom with Luka and Lana hot on her heels to join Sam at the bar. She turned to see a smiling Lana as her hand drifted down to her stomach. "You have beautiful children, Luka."

Her voice murmured in his ears as the bartender slid her glass of water across the counter, her hand wrapping tightly around it. She turned to lean back against the counter, her husband rather close to her side, and her hand once again absentmindedly drifted down to her stomach. His eyes traced his daughter's face as he bounced her up and down, and for only a moment he imagined only them – the three of them – alone together.

He longed for them to be a family – Lana and Alex included.

His gaze went to his wife, her eyes locking on his as he fanned his fingers out across Lana's back and leaned his hip against the counter. His eyes traveled down her body as he captured her hand covering her stomach, concern immediately flooding onto his face. He reached over and let his hand cover hers, entwining his fingers with hers as his fingers curled against her shirt and skimmed across her skin in between the waistline of her pants and her shirt – a chill being sent through her spine.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?"

His voice was a dull whisper in her ear as he leaned towards her, her index finger lifting and tracing the outline of Lana's face. She shook her head gently, the ends of her hair brushing across the visible flesh on his arm, and felt his hand gently slide away from hers. His concern for her was escalated as she absentmindedly pulled his hand back and pressed it firmly against her abdomen – her palm pressing just as hard into the back of his hand.

"I think…" Her voice trailed off as his thumb brushed across her skin, her breath hitching slightly in her throat at an unpremeditated contact.

"Are we…?"

He seemed just as displaced as she did, not knowing what to say nor knowing what it was she was trying to say. Could he be seeing this going all wrong?

Her eyes focused back on Lana again as his eyes seemed to do the same, both of their statements and their thoughts left going unfinished. She was beautiful; she had her dad's eyes and her dad's nose, not to mention her dad's smile. She was, without a doubt, a part of Luka, and that's why Sam loved every part of her.

"You have beautiful children, Luka," she said it again, this time louder and mostly captivated by the little girl. She bit her bottom lip as she fought to keep control, to keep the tears filling into her eyes from falling down her face. She didn't think she was that pathetic – or maybe she was just that fucking… "I can't wait to have one with you."

He smiled softly, her verbal confession finally coming out after month upon month upon month of him thinking that she was ready for that. He wanted it, at least, he thought he did; but he was almost certain that by this time it wouldn't matter anyway. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across Sam's forehead before his attention went right back to Lana.

_It was much too late_.


	12. Chpt12:Fall From Grace

Sam was too busy being captivated by her husband holding his child in his arms to notice that Ray had walked in with his rather airy and cold white, lab coat wrapped tightly around him. He'd mentioned not being able to show up because of an 18 hour shift he hated working, and it was driving Sam to her worries from his eyes already seeming to be baggage acclaimed. She'd worked with Ray for a little over 4 years and she'd never seen him short of bags below his eyes, after all, he was one of the closest things to a brother she had anymore.

Ray reminded her of her little brother so much, being stuck between boys was always a challenge for her when it came to having someone to play with, but those years were behind her. His reminder of her little brother Scott reminded her of how her life had moved on without them – without her parents and brothers – but she couldn't bring herself to seek them. She'd settle for what she had.

Sam smiled at the pair, rubbed Luka's back affectionately, and walked back to the table.

"Dada!" Lana seemed to shout out to the entire room, making Luka's whole body tingle from head to toe, and she reached out to cup his cheeks. He hadn't heard her speak to him in what seemed like forever, and it made him smile wide until the corners of his mouth seemed to touch his eyes. "Thirsey."

So, her English wasn't perfect, but she was only 2 – he was surprised she was even speaking at all.

"You're getting so big," his voice was soft and barely audible, lifting his index finger and dragging it down the length of her face as he shuffled his feet towards the table full of his co-workers and friends. He watched her as she giggled lightly and squished his cheeks together, her tiny hands cold against his flushed cheeks. "And your daddy misses you."

He felt guilty and stupid because he had left her birthday present at home on the kitchen counter, and it made his body ache unconditionally to be so absentmindedly. He felt that he was being that much of an ass and a horrible father to just forget something like his daughter's birthday party, but, then again, he wasn't even the one told about it – his wife was the one that was technically invited. He went on to ignore it, but it was getting out of hand.

"Everything all right, Luka," Abby asked, a bit of a smirk on her face.

"Yeah," he nodded, brushing his thumb across his daughter's unsuspecting cheek. He grinned when his thumb brushing across her cheek sent her into a fit of giggles, not realizing just how much it tickled the soft, baby skin. "We're perfectly fine."

He was too busy focused on his daughter to take into consideration Abby's condescending tone as though he was incapable of taking care of their child. _What did she think? That he was some kind of walking, Croatian, baby idiot?_

"Can I hold her?"

Neela's voice broke Luka's concentration on Lana as his gaze went to her, nodding his head slowly. He stepped around the table as he leaned down and passed her off to Neela, seeing just how excited Neela got while holding the child. He guessed that Neela spent more time with his child then he got to – his limit had seemed to be set to 30 minutes by her mother's protectiveness.

"I just came by to tell Lana happy birthday," Ray smiled at the little girl as he ruffled the hair on top of her head, "but I really need to get back over there. It's just me and a bunch of interns."

Ray smiled smugly as his eyes lingered on Lana, almost as though he were hiding something that no one else in the room could possibly know, sparks flying through the air as Luka grew strangely annoyed by his resident. He offered Abby a smile as he reached out and lightly touched her elbow as everything in him crumbled, and he leaned forward to press his lips against her soft cheek. Parting quickly, he gave her a wink.

He looked over at Sam and Luka, noticing a distance between them that he wished he didn't see, and offered them both a nod of acknowledgment. His eyes shifted back to Abby and traveled slowly from her to Neela – he looked so hurt when he looked at her, like he'd wasted a lifetime on something that hadn't been worth it. He seemed like a broken soul whenever he looked at her.

"Good night guys," he ripped his gaze from watching Neela as he turned on his heel, seeming to make a mad dash for the door. He opened his palm and pressed it open hard, the door almost hit a rather tall, blonde man in the face who became immediately angry, but Ray continued to hold the door open for the man. "Sorry."

He muttered quietly before he took off to cross the street, disappearing into the creases and folds of the night.

"Shit."

Alex heard his mother mutter from across the room, and he looked up from aiming to shoot quickly as he heard the distress in her voice. He was mad at his mother for grounding him for some allegedly stupid reasons, but anytime he heard that tone in her voice he got concerned. He discarded everything else around him to turn his attention to his mother.

He looked at her and squinted devilishly from across the room, catching his mother's face going pale as she took a step back. Her eyes were locked fiercely in the direction of the door, and his eyes followed the direction she was staring only to see a sight that he had never wanted to see again. He dropped the pool stick onto the table and balled his fists up at his hips.

Michael Gallant looked at the boy, and yes he was still a boy – much too young – with question in his eyes upon seeing him seem to explode from the inside out.

The man seemed to hop in his step as he approached Alex's mother with heavy steps, the destination clearly a goal that he was going to achieve whether anything was standing in his way or not. Alex wasn't sure the feelings that he had welling up inside him looking at this man; anger and maybe even hatred seemed to win out, but he wasn't sure whether he still loved and cared for this man who had given him nothing but broken promises. Alex knew one thing; this man was everything short of a father.

Steve looked like he'd been hit by a truck and run over by all 18 or so wheels; jail had done him no good in making him look his 37 years, and maybe more. His blonde, curly hair was longer and disheveled as it stood up in the back – this man could hardly be recognized any more without his one piece jumpsuit. He was wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blue jean jacket – the mixture of all 3 colliding with the light blue in his eyes until they seemed almost gray. There was something different about him, as though he'd managed to get off scot-free in a jail full of man hungry men.

"Hello, Sammie," he muttered gently, ignoring the tall man standing slightly behind her with his jaw locked and his eyes cold. That man hated him, he could see it the Croatian's eyes, but he didn't care because nothing would ever stand between him and his family. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

She looked at him hard with narrowed eyes, she absentmindedly pressed her hand against her stomach as she stepped back and she was brought to a halt as she ran into Luka's hard chest. She wasn't scared of him, not anymore, but she also didn't have anything to say to him any longer – she'd stand silent until he walked away. She didn't know that her husband was standing tall behind her, giving her ex-boyfriend a warning glare.

"Right," Steve sighed with a nod after he ripped his gaze away from Luka's warning glare, _the man was intimidating_, Steve realized for the first time. He'd never been scared of Luka; he never had the chance to be when he was high – he always had that fearless quality at those times. "Where's Alex?"

"What are you doing here, Steve?" Luka asked with anger obvious in his voice, breaking the tension between the three, and he fought back a smirk as he watched Steve take a fearful step back. "If you're here to cause trouble, don't bother. We're not in the mood."

"I'm just here to see my son."

Luka laughed lightly in the back of his throat as he shook his head, pulling his closed fists up and pressing them into his hips. He couldn't believe that Steve thought he could walk in after 2 years and still consider himself Alex's father – he hadn't written a short letter since Alex had visited him in Colorado. His gaze got narrower, and Steve got lucky that Alex seemed to rush over and step in between his mother and Steve.

"What are you doing here?"

Alex's voice seemed just as angry as Luka's except Alex pressed his palms against his father's chest to push him away, immediately feeling the eyes of his father burn into the back of his skull. He wasn't a little boy anymore, it was time for him to show to his father that he can't hurt him or control him like he had once. He was going to show his father that he was better than him, and would never be like him.

"Don't you…"

Steve trailed off as his anger was slightly detected in the back of his throat, and he noticed Alex's face turning red. The boy had a temper that he'd never been given a chance to see, and the first time was always the worst. Hatred burned deep in the boys eyes, making Steve ball his fists up in his pockets on instinct.

"No, don't you," Alex stepped forward into his father, his elbow ramming hard into the hard chest of the man in front of him. He was pulling his strength from a deep down place he never knew that he had, and he wouldn't let his father win this one out. His father hadn't been there for him like Luka had, he'd been locked up – he was a criminal – and Alex glanced back at Luka over his shoulder before looking hard at his father. "You're not a father, you're someone's bitch."

"You do have a little mouth on you, boy," Steve's eyes narrowed at Alex as he spoke to him through clenched teeth.

Alex had hit a nerve, he could tell, and he wasn't sure what to expect from this man next. He knew this man's feelings weren't hurt as much as he was getting angry, and he couldn't imagine what the man was going to do next. It reminded him of when he was little and Steve hit his mother, only this time he was almost standing eye to eye with this man and could make a difference against his size.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

_Like you care_, Alex smirked.

"Why do you hate _me_ so much? What did I ever do to you to make you treat me the way that you do?" Alex's voice was angry as he furrowed his eyebrows and pushed his lips tightly together, covering his stomach with his hand. He had a shooting pain in his gut that he'd force himself to ignore, the pain was from separating himself from what he'd always believed as a little kid. "It wasn't me that ruined your life."

"Yes you did," Steve laughed venomously as he shook his head.

Alex didn't think twice; he didn't look over his shoulder at his parents; he didn't care who was watching because he knew by then that everyone had to be.

He looked at Steve with such hatred, like a mask was covering his eyes and making him blind to the figure standing before him, and he knew that he was better off. He balled up his fist as tightly as possible and cocked his jaw. He exhaled a sharp breath that had to whip Steve back to reality, the man before him looking at him as he shook with anger.

He pulled back his arm and threw his fist into the lucid jaw of the stranger, his knuckles rubbing roughly against the stubble between fleshes clashing together. He remembered discreetly for just a moment what it had been like reading the comic books and the villain getting punched, the '_pow_s' and '_wham_s' sounding out across the page in bold letters, and his mind reacted in unison with those noises as his fist crushed into the boney jaw. His fist stood still as the face flew backward, the devilish grin painted across Steve's face almost sending Alex to pounce on him.

Sam paused as her entire body began to feel weak, seeing her son stand up for himself against the one person she'd fought against all along, and she covered her mouth. She could feel her stomach churn like butter, working the insides until it was solid and dysfunctional, and she could almost feel it rising up the back of her throat as though it was burning her from the inside out like acid. She had no strength left within her, as though Alex had taken all of her inner being and used to his advantage.

"That's enough," Luka practically shouted as he saw Alex step forward again to possibly stick it to Steve again, reaching forward to clutch Alex by the waist. He didn't know why he was stopping Alex, he'd only dreamed of clobbering himself all too many times but never actually following through. He pulled Alex's back into his chest and wrapped his arms around the torso of the growing boy, keeping him from advancing further on his father. "You can't do this, Alex."

"He deserves it! He's an asshole!"

"Don't be like him," he whispered gently into his stepson's ear, his eyes drifting down to Alex's hands as he tried to pry himself from Luka's arms. Alex winced miserably as he pushed off with his thumbs, and Luka noticed the difference in his hands. "You're body can't take it."

_System overload_.

"What? The good doctor doesn't want to fight?" Steve laughed with an open mouth, showing that he'd bit his tongue and his teeth were slowly being surrounded by blood. How could he still speak with his tongue nearly into two pieces? "Should I be surprised?"

Luka slowly released Alex and stepped between him and Steve, unwilling to let this happen now – in this time and in this place. He could feel Steve thrive on the moment from behind him, finding it sickening to see anyone catch their thrills from being beat up on by the son. Luka was, once again, playing the role of the savior between the two of them. Luka turned sharply on his heel, Alex's breathing shallow and quick from behind him.

She swallowed hard into the back of her throat to keep it from coming up.

"You know what they do to pussies like you in jail?" Steve smiled grotesquely, his blood ridden teeth showing through his slightly parted lips, and his tongue darted across his lips. He licked his dry lips as he smoothed his bloody tongue across it. "They make them their bitch."

Steve stepped forward and caught Luka by the front of his shirt, clutching it tight as he pulled Luka forward. He grinned with a hard stare, pleased with Luka's discomfort, and the distinct smell of blood drifted up Luka's nostrils. Blood began to ooze down his chin, and he swallowed hard to attempt at getting rid of some of the blood.

Luka's eyes were narrowed tight in the direction of this – this thing, he wasn't even close to being a man, maybe a demon but he was no man – and his teeth clenched tightly as he lifted his hands to the man's chest. It was probably just the kind of thing that someone like this demon creature in front of him would get off on, but his palms flattened at against his chest as he forced the weight of his upper half against his arms. His thumbs pressed into Steve's collar bones, knowing that the glint in his eyes was a look that he never wanted to see again.

Steve was right – screw being polite and keeping from making a scene.

It was anger, hatred that made Luka step back and rip himself from Steve's grasp, and his hands finally replaced where Alex's had been on the man's face as he held the man in place by the front of his t-shirt. His fist pounded into Steve's face over and over until he heard the faint crack through the silence of the room, making him suddenly stop and drop Steve to the floor. The thud echoed against his feet, hearing Steve push himself and spit the blood out onto the floor.

That grin was still painted across his face – _he was definitely getting off on this_.

The vomit crawled up the back of her throat, but she swallowed it back as her son turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He buried his face into her shoulder as he struggled to control his breathing, and he deeply inhaled when he felt his mother slide her arms around his torso as though she was the stranger he never knew he needed. She couldn't see, but she knew about the other side of her son.

The huddled mess on the floor was like a sickness, beaten and broken.

_It was like a sickness that would never go away._


	13. Chpt13:Enough Punishment

He'd never noticed that the walls were so white before because when he was usually sitting in the waiting room it was insanely crowded, but this time it was relatively bare with random spots of dirtier white areas. Everyone sitting in the waiting room seemed to have one thing in common: they all seemed to be missing an actual emergency, himself included. He'd much rather be at home in his own bed than sitting there stuck in that state boredom without the ability to move his hand.

Sam sat beside him with the medical history clipboard in her hand, filling it out practically without reading the questions from working there for so long – years of practice. She'd sped through them after she'd spent nearly the entire first 30 minutes they were there talking to one of the new nurses working at the nurses station, and she was close to being done filling it out. He glanced at her as he absentmindedly began tapping his fingers against his thighs.

"Don't do that," she looked up briefly as she gave him a firm and forceful look.

How is it that he could punch his father in the jaw and still be afraid to disobey his mother off of a hard look?

"Can't we just go home?" He sighed in annoyance as he was beginning to remember why he hated being a patient, his voice still cracking with inevitability. He looked at all of the others waiting there with him and then he looked at his hand – maybe his was worse. "I'm fine."

"No, I don't think you are," she shook her head as she looked up, scribbling her signature across the last line of the paper, and she dropped the pen to the clipboard. She didn't want to be there just as much as he didn't want to be there, but she wanted to see his bones heal properly. She'd seen it before, that thumb was most likely broken. "I think your thumb's broken, and you need an x-ray."

"Can't we get a second opinion?"

He was working that smart, sarcastic mouth to lighten the mood but his mother was beginning to get aggravated. She sighed as she picked up her purse from the floor to dig through, not quite sure what she was searching for, but she did know that she was beginning to really hate the entire night.

"Luka thinks you need to be here, too, and you know how Luka is about visiting the hospital," she sighed into her purse as she gave up her search and dropped her purse back to the floor. She clutched the clipboard tight as she stood up and looked down at him. "Besides, we're getting the second opinion now, Dr. Taggart."

The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to smile, but her body seemed unwilling to show even the slightest bit of pleasure. _It was supposed to be a good day_, she sighed as she shook her head and turned towards the nurses' station, and she realized that she didn't know what made the evening suck so horribly – she just knew that it was the worst day of her and Luka's marriage, maybe even the worst day of her adult life. It made her angry, as though she'd just gathered her strength.

She set the clipboard down on the desk and shoved it across the top of it, pushing her tongue into her cheek as she stared coldly towards the admit desk at a sleeping Frank. He was sprawled out across the desk and most likely drooling puddles onto the desk, and Sam laughed lightly in the back of her throat. She looked back at Pam, the nurse sitting in the chair across from her, and bit her bottom lip.

"How long do you think the wait is?"

Sam could tell herself that it was going to be a long night, and she was looking forward to anything but a night with Alex getting bored, tired, and a smart mouth. X-ray had been backed up all day, and there wasn't going to be anyway that the process would be caught up by then, she'd sent a mere 50 up in a matter of 4 hours. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, her thumb awkwardly rubbing circles against the outside of her pockets.

"It's hard to say. Your husband is the chief, so you never know," Pam teased and was successful in eliciting at least a small smile from their head nurse.

Sam walked back to the chair next to Alex as he lifted is left hand in leaned it against his temple, pressing his elbow against the armrest and resting his head. She looked at her son in distress, and she couldn't figure out if he was pain from the punch he threw or from whom he had thrown the punch at. It was probably more complicated than she could even begin to understand.

Part of her wanted to chastise him, tell him that he shouldn't have hit his father, but the other part of her was proud of him for realizing what kind of a person his father was and not letting him back into his life. She didn't know how she was supposed to be towards him when it came to what he did, but she knew that she wanted to tell him he did well and that she wished he doesn't have to do it again. She really wasn't angry at him.

The person she was upset with was Luka. He had practically pounded Steve's face in, even though the sick bastard had enjoyed it, and he seemed to show no regret even though he'd done this in front of his 2 year old daughter. He was acting like the man she married or the man she fell in love with, he was acting vulnerable like he was tired of the entire situation.

_Did he want out?_

She sat back down and rubbed her sons though affectionately, wishing that it wasn't best for them to be sitting there to wait for someone to have a look at his hand. He looked over at her, and widened his sleep laden eyes to give her the most poignant look he could muster but it seemed to go unnoticed. He stifled a yawn, and looked down to her hand on his leg as he tried not to reach out with his hurt hand to make her stop.

She was causing him to drift to sleep.

"What time is it?"

He was tired, and his voice was cracking from both the sleep resting in the back of his throat and through his hormonal change.

"Hmm," she mumbled as she lifted her left arm from his leg and checked her watch, shaking her head lightly as she caught him stifling another yawn. He was tired, and her heart ached for him having to sit in that waiting room for an undefined amount of time. "It's about _11:45_."

"Can't we go home and come by tomorrow? I have school in the morning," he was using every excuse he could possibly think of to get home and into bed. He was drained, and he could hear his bed calling his name from across town and he hated that it was being a tease. "I'm supposed to get there early."

"You aren't going," she shook her head, crossing her legs and leaning back against the armrest as she entwined her fingers together. She sighed, looking at the plea in her son's face and knowing that there wasn't anything else she'd rather do that take him home and put him into bed. "X-ray's backed up. We'll be here all night."

He sighed and leaned back against his hand, giving up the fight against sitting there all night.

"You love x-rays. What's the big deal?"

"Only when they're for fun, mom," he laughed lazily in the back of his throat as he shook his head slightly, letting his eyes drift closed. She watched him, and she seemed to start mentally making a checklist of things that needed to be done in order for her to see how big he was getting; _check height, check weight, check pant waist, check shoe size_.

He seemed to be curled up into the chair, the plastic digging into his lower back but he seemed to not care, and his size seemed to make him overflow. His mother couldn't believe how big he was, considering that nearly 2 years ago he was too small for his age instead of rather tall for his age, but then she remembered that his father was an easy 6 feet. Alex was bound to be somewhere in between her 5 foot and his father's 6 foot.

He was getting too big much too fast, and it was scaring her to know that he'd soon be out of her house and out of her life. She'd had him in her life since she was 15; he'd been there for her to take care of and to raise, and she didn't know what she'd do without him being there and not needing her anymore. She'd never been without a child, at least, what she couldn't remember, and she was beginning to lose herself.

_If she wasn't a mother, what was she?_

"How's it looking?" Her husband nearly whispered as he walked in from being outside and sat down beside her, cautiously. He acted as though he was hiding something, like his secrets were being pounded deeper and deeper within him and she didn't like it at all. "Is it looking bad?"

He knelt down in front of Alex, gently picking up his hand and examining it carefully. His own hand was bruised around the knuckles, and she peered at him to catch his hair disheveled and his eyes red as though he'd kept his eyes pried open for hours upon hours too long. He looked like a tainted mess, and he was doing his best to keep it from becoming untainted.

"Yeah," he sighed, setting Alex's hand back down on his lap and looking at Sam as he slapped his open palm against his thigh. He nodded as he reached up and scratched his temple with his left hand, offering her a force smile as he absentmindedly reached out to rub her knee. "We're going to try to get him back there at least. I think that he broke a knuckle."

He looked different, slightly, than he had before as she remembered that he had once looked so full of life, but she'd hardly seen it with her. She knew that he had seemed like such a mess without her, and even Abby had counseled her on it once or twice. She couldn't, honestly, remember him ever being truly happy with her.

He only seemed happy anymore when he saw his daughter.

She reached out and pressed her fingertips into his cheek, her thumb tracing his dry lips as she carefully touched a dark bruise forming on his face. She wondered where he got it from and began to prepare herself for some kind of bogus story he'd probably give as she was running her thumb across his dry, purple colored bruise. Her heart ached at his pain, even though she had no idea what his pain was, and she felt all of her strength crumble down until it was a mess on the floor.

He reached up and grabbed her arm by the wrist, hoping to halt her hand from tracing his broken and cracked lips, and he pushed them together to take away the destination of her reach. He heard words forming in his head, as though it was completing an equation, and he pushed up on his legs as he struggled to stand on shaky legs. He dropped her arm as he stepped to move passed her, surprised when her hand wrapped around the belt loop at his hip and pulling him to her.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered to him as she stood up, hoping in all of her right mind that Alex was actually asleep in the chair closest to them. She followed him as he glanced over his shoulder to have a look at Alex and walked towards the sliding glass doors – he felt so behind. "I don't want to punish him for tonight but I feel like I should."

She continued to ignore that Luka had, in fact, taken the same response as Alex – but she somehow figured that he'd already gotten his punishment from someone else.

"Sam, don't," Luka sighed gently as he turned his body towards her slightly, and he dragged a hand through his hair, "chances are that he's going to start feeling depressed, and on top of that he's already grounded from last night. He'll hit depression even faster being locked up in the house without anything to take his mind off of it. Let's face it, Sam; no matter how much we hate it, the guy still is his father."

She nodded as she noticed him take a step back, physically and emotionally, as his voice seemed to begin sounding condescending to a point that would drive her mad. She was willing herself not to let go, but she took a step back anyway, absentmindedly covering her abdomen with her hand.


	14. Chpt14:Torn Apart

She looked up from her hands and across Alex to see Luka, his eyes cast downward at the floor as he absentmindedly scuffed the toe of his shoe across the tile. He lifted his hand and dragged it across his stubble darkening his chin, his fingertips raking against the pokey hair that he'd failed to have time to shave earlier that morning and was now paying the price. He slowly looked up at his wife, not knowing that she'd been staring at him, and he pursed his lips together.

"I'm sorry," he didn't know why he was apologizing, but he just figured that nothing would fit better at that moment than an apology. He watched her as her hand found its way to play with the hairs at the back of Alex's head, and he suddenly felt guilty for neglecting to grab a chair on their way into the room. "It took longer than I expected to get him into a room."

He reached up slowly and scratched his temple, wincing slightly as his nail dragged down the side of his face while he attempted to hide his pain. She wondered if he had hurt himself, or maybe if someone else had hurt which she highly doubted, and that made her narrow her eyes in his direction. She didn't know what was going on, and part of her didn't care to find out.

"What the hell happened to your face?"

She looked at his troubled and broken appearance, wondering if she'd ever touch him again for fear that she'd break him. It was almost unbelievable to think that a woman as tiny and frail as she was would be afraid to break a man as broad and consuming as him. _How could she go on thinking that she'd break the man that she loved? _

"It's nothing, Sam. Don't worry about it," he shrugged nonchalantly as she shook her head at the suggestion of her not worry about her husband, "I'll be fine."

He looked at her, the pain in his eyes trying to lie his way into complete and total oblivion, and outwardly cringed at the sight of him. She had about a thousand questions begin to run through her head, and not one question was one that wouldn't make her heart ache. It was an unfair trade.

She had a question and she got hit in the chest.

Was he unhappy with her? Did he not love her like he promised her he always would? She remembered that just the day before he had been asking her the same questions, and it was a strain on their marriage to think that the other didn't want to be in it. All she wanted was to be married to him, and that surprised even her.

She was caught off guard when he warily reached across Alex and gently grabbed her upper arm, holding it as he moved around the table. He pressed his chest into her shoulder as he stood behind her, offering Alex a smile that held a slight glint in it. She was confused, and she gently shook her head with a raised eyebrow as she looked at her son.

She couldn't fathom why her husband had suddenly changed his emotions from angry to pleased, and it sent a whirlwind of a tornado shooting through her mind. Of course, his hands were cold against her skin and it made her body shiver until the point that she almost forgot why the three of them were sitting in that room. But her eyes suddenly snapped to a wider pose, and she stepped away from her husband as she reached out to touch her son.

He was her main concern. He always had been and he always would be.

"Your hand feeling any better, baby?"

She reached up and brushed her fingers down the back of her son's head, eliciting a quiet sigh to escape from his lips. He was tired and in pain, she could read that much on his face, and there wasn't anyway he was going to feel any better until someone pumped some drugs into his tired body. It was almost a random question; after all, her husband was barely offering her the time of day.

Luka took a hard step towards the door, prepared to take charge of his ER in the first place and to wreck a little havoc, just when the door opened and a rather tall man with his eyes cast downward stepped into the room. Who was this doctor? He wasn't one of Luka's doctors, unless it was an overnighter that Kerry had shipped in.

"I'm Dr. Rogers," the man practically groaned when he looked up and saw a large Alex on the table, disappointed that he'd been stuck with yet another child, "it seems that the scan Chuny ran won't be back until early in the morning and I really hate the idea of casting your hand without certainty of where the problem is…"

"Just put a cast on it," Luka shrugged, giving the young doctor a stern glare.

"With all due respect, Dr. Kovac, you're not his father and aren't declared to make decisions."

"I am his father, Dr. Rogers. I'm paying this hospital bill and I'm his primary physician. You are in my ER and until I say otherwise you are to follow my orders if and when they are given to you," Luka's face was turning red as he took a heavy step towards the doctor, who leaned backwards haphazardly, and Luka's blood seemed to boil. He'd had a rough night, and he was sure that he was going to lose control. "Now, put a cast on his hand."

Dr. Rogers hesitated, his eyes drifting respectively towards Sam as she did her best to ignore her husband's hard stare, and he pursed his lips together. He was waiting for something, almost any kind of control to take place from his chief doctor's wife, and his hand clutched tighter and tighter around the clipboard. He could point out a man in search of power and one who normally thrived on his power, and he couldn't seem to find it in this man giving him a command.

Sam nodded as she slowly sat beside her son, rubbing her forehead in slight exasperation at the anger in her husband's tone. She reached out and grabbed Luka by the belt loop, gently tugging him toward her by the waist as she shook her head. She didn't know whether she wanted to kill him at the moment, or if she was craving to feel his touch, but either way she was desperate for some kind of contact.

Dr. Rogers nodded as he slowly left the room, the boy's parents failing to acknowledge his existence but failing to care himself. He glanced to his mother to see her nearly begging for a touch that he couldn't give her; sure, he could make her happy, but not the same way that Luka could. Alex was slowly learning what his parents had was special, different, regardless of how they seemed to fail to get along at moments.

Luka turned slightly under his wife's touch, and he smoothed tired fingertips across her back as he sighed inwardly. His legs were tired, his arms were heavy, and his body was shaking from the inside out from his uncertainty of where the night had gone. His mind wasn't even in the place that he was – he'd left it somewhere else where he knew he wouldn't bother looking.

"I'm sorry," the words were accompanied with a tired sigh and a low moan as he seemed to nuzzle his face into her hair, searching for a comfort or an understanding. He knew that she was confused by him, she was angry with him, and she was crazy over him – and he wanted to reach out to cure her desperation for any kind of touch from him. "Tonight should have never happened – none of it. I love you, Sam."

He seemed breathless as his breath escaped from his lips and gently into her ear.

She was distracted though. She didn't know how to tell him what she'd kept deep inside of her throughout the entire night. She wanted to hate him and to hate herself all at the same time.

"I don't think I can handle this ever again – having a child and knowing what it's like to never be there because of her mother. It breaks my heart and I can't control myself when I get like that. I don't know what I'd do if that were to ever happen again."

And she stopped. Her body stopped. Her breathing stopped. Her heart stopped.

_How could she tell him now?_


	15. Chpt15:Never Ending

She was sure that she'd barely heard Alex make it to bed before he crashed, and she'd barely laid in bed beside her husband herself. His breathing had been in sharp, shallow breaths as though he'd been hit in the nose and there was a blockage of mucus in his sinus cavities. Although he seemed beaten, no one seemed as broken as her son did.

It was tragic, the story running her head – about a man who was willing to give up nothing but take everything at the same time, and who became initially surprised when the one thing that really mattered take itself from him. It was bullshit. The story had nothing to do with her and yet it broke her heart like it never should have.

She hadn't been able to sleep, and she'd been up thinking of the tragic story and how it would affect her son. She couldn't figure it out. She didn't know how he would be this time, but she knew he wouldn't be like the last time. The last time he'd been angry with her and he blamed her, but neither of them lost sleep over it because Luka had been there.

But this time, she'd been the solo party, and she lost sleep.

_It's not good for the baby_, she silently remembered as her hand drifted lower and lower to cover her abdomen, the blankets loose as they covered her body. Her skin shivered as it echoed deep into her soul, her own hand cold against her flesh as she covered her baby resting peacefully in the womb. Their baby.

She heard a groan exit from the lips of the man beside her, his body shifting as his chest moved into her body while he eased his hand across her abdomen. Even in his sleep he drew nearer to her, and it made her question how she had ever imagined being somewhat against a cuddling sleeper all of those years when she could hardly imagine sleeping without his arms around her; her mind suddenly drifted to that year they were apart – wondering if he'd slept with his arms wrapped around Abby, the real mother of his living child.

She should shoot herself for ever thinking something like that.

His fingertips slid across her skin as they seemed to quietly tuck into the waistband of her pajamas, his fingers splaying out against her skin as his breathing became rhythmic in her ear. His touch seemed weaker in his sleep, but the masculinity of his body pressed into hers was still capable of winning out compared to any amount of strength anyone else could hold, and it made her actually think about her next breath. His touch just made her want to trace his swollen, sleeping features.

His hand drifted lower on her body, making her wonder just how much touching he really did in his sleep.

She turned slightly, her elbow pressing gently into her side and his fingertips tickling across her skin as she faced him. She fought the urge to lift her hand and trace his lips with her thumb, feeling as though she couldn't get enough of her own husband for just a moment, and she sighed. Her breath played a gentle tune across his slightly parted lips, the air making the moist saliva on his lips go dry. Her eyes drifted closed for only a moment.

His tongue stuck out slightly as he swiped it across his lips, getting them wet again as he sucked in a deep breath. He finally let his eyes open and looked at her for just a moment before he quietly shoved his leg across the foot of the bed to touch her leg with. He pulled his hand back to himself as he let his nails softly drag across her skin, his thumb pressing carefully against her stomach, and he pursed his lips together tightly.

"Why won't you just go to sleep?" His voice was quiet with sleep and deep in the back of his throat, his fingers playing against her side.

"I can't sleep," she shook her head slightly until he pressed his forehead into hers, partially surprised that he was even awake. She hadn't expected his rhythmic breathing to be roused as he exhaled a heavy breath, nor had she expected his touch to be just that – a touch. She thought that he had been truly drawing near to her in his sleep. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Because I was waiting for you to go to sleep so I could watch you," he smiled slightly, but he lifted his hand to scratch his cheek – the echo rough form the stubble presented on his face. It was easily a lie – she had woken him up, but he hadn't been asleep for long. "You just don't let anyone else win, do you?"

"You're a liar, Luka Kovac, and you were touching my ass in your sleep," she lifted an eyebrow accusingly, rolling onto her back until his palm was flat on her stomach. He squeezed her skin gently as his palm pressed a bit harder into her flesh, the sheepish smile on his face darkening as he turned his face away from her as he tiredly hid it in the pillow. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

He cocked an eyebrow as he felt her tease his skin with her fingertips, reaching over and touching his side as she drew tired circles in his flesh. He turned his head to face her, her hand immediately sliding up his body to trace his swollen face like she'd been wanting to do all along, and she dragged her knuckles across the dark stubble on his face. She flinched inwardly and outwardly being strangely aroused by his gruff feel.

"Luka, there's a reason that I can't sleep."

"I know," he whispered back just as gently as she had spoken, his voice quiet enough to soothe her inner soul, and a nod accompanying his voice. He could see the passion in her eyes, and he could tell that she wanted to forget the introduction and go straight to the show. Something in him told him that the introduction was the most important part this time – it told him that it was now or never.

"No; you don't know," she shook her head as she looked away from him. He lifted his hand from her stomach and drew her eyes back to eyes, gently touching his fingertips to her chin, and he gently pressed his lips to hers as if to urge her on. "It isn't what you think."

"And what do you think I think it is?"

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head and turned from him, sitting up on the side of the bed as she let out a body shaking sigh. _Chicken shit…_her mind cried out to her as her inner self laughed evilly at her in the back of her mind. "Now's not a good time."

"You're awake…I'm awake – there's no other time. Just tell me, Sam."

"Now's not a good time, Luka, that's the point. You think that you aren't fit to be a father, and I've thought for years that I wasn't fit to be a mother – so, now's not a good time, but I want this more than I ever thought I did."

He smiled knowingly as the truth finally escaped from her, his reach extending across the length of the bed as he carefully touched her back.

"So, you're telling me that you want to start trying for a baby?"

"No," she said barely above a whisper, shaking her head. He pursed his lips together as he furrowed his eyebrows, the touch on her back lightening as he was clearly confused. "I'm saying that we're already going to be having a baby."

His mind raced with questions, and he was barely able to lunge across the bed and wrap his arm around her waist before she could separate them with walls. His voice hitched for a moment as a sob climbed up the back of his throat, unsure if he was crying because it was something that he wanted or if it was something that he didn't want, and felt his foot seep out from beneath the sheets to be hit with cold air. He swallowed the lob, keeping control of his own emotions.

"Where do you think you're going, Sam? You aren't even going to give me time to respond?" He bit his bottom lip, letting his hand press into her stomach as he scooted up behind her with a leg hanging from either side of her. He pressed his lips into the crook of her neck for a just moment before he rested his chin on her shoulder as he pulled her back into his chest. "You can't do that."

"I know how you've been lately."

"This is different, Sam," he laughed into the back of his throat in place of the sob fighting to climb back up, and he felt her body shake slightly against his, "this is with you." He sighed, almost angrily, and he let his lips hover over her skin, his breath trailing over the slightly exposed area. "This is what I wanted with you all along, Sam…I wanted for us to be a family. It shouldn't have been Abby who was the mother of my child – it should have been you – because I am in love with you."

"Luka, you can't say that," she shook her head vigorously as she stood in his arms as she felt him stand abruptly behind her rather than just simply letting her go. She pulled his arms from around her and stepped away from her, the coldness of the room suddenly circling around her without his body heat present any longer. "I've seen you with your daughter, and there isn't any way that you could ever truly mean that!"

Sam's breathing was strong for a moment, and with a sigh she stepped forward and cupped his cheeks. She pulled his forehead to her lips, and them linger on the spot as he seemed to wrap his arms around her.

"You love that she's yours."

He didn't say anything else – just slowly stood from his sitting spot on the bed with his eyes locked to hers the entire time. He looked down at her, his body height casting a rather tall shadow over her and making the room seem even more frigid than before, and he began to imagine a skin so soft beneath his fingertips. Just the thought of his wife in his tired state made him shake, and something about her confession made her even more beautiful to him.

"How long?" He whispered huskily, and she didn't seem to understand. She pursed her lips together and shook her head, his hands brushing up her sides as they went to rest at the crooks of her neck with his trembling fingertips causing her to shake. "How far along are you?"

"About 5 weeks," she whispered, feeling his hands pull her body into his.

The touch was different than one they'd ever shared – it was scary and yet comfortable; it was unsure and yet promising. He leaned forward slightly as he pressed his lips against her forehead, his fingers fanning out against her back as she slid her arms around his waist. The touch was reassuring and yet sensual.

"Sam," he breathed out gently as he let his eyes drop to hers and he looked his wife in the eye as she kept attempting to keep her vision away from his. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her look like that, and he furrowed his eyebrows low on his forehead as he attempted to fight back his smile. "I can't remember whenever you've looked so beautiful."

She laughed quietly in the back of her throat as he smiled, her hands reaching out and touching the hem of his gray shirt – her fingers tapping lazily against his skin. All was lost – that was all she was sure of.


End file.
